Fade
by lone astronomer
Summary: James Potter deals with kidnappings, being Head Boy, and falling out of love. Sequel to Change. Finished! 1572005
1. In

****

Fade

Part I: Fade In

part two of the Paint the Sky anthology  
part one of the Fade series  
by lone astronomer

Warning: Violence, language, torture, some sexual references. Rated R.

Summary: The story of a boy and a girl who try everything to avoid their destiny. Part one of four, sequel to Change, second in the _Paint the Sky_ story arc.

Disclaimer: I make no claim of ownership upon Harry Potter, be it of his character or his surroundings. I do, however, own half a share in Cabana Boy Oliver. I am not charging people to read my story, because they wouldn't pay anyway, so don't sue me. If you do not know to whom Harry Potter belongs, you must have been living in a cave for the past four years. 

*

In

*

When she woke, her head throbbed. Her entire body protested her return to consciousness with screaming joints and muscles. She couldn't, daren't, move. She knew that she was standing, probably tied, in the center of a large room, her arms above her head. There was no sound except her own breathing; her visual field was black.

__

That's because your eyes are closed.

She had no idea how long she had been unconscious- hours, likely; possibly days. It felt like weeks. She opened one eye cautiously, slowly, and found that she could hardly see any more than she had when her eyes were closed. The air tasted stale and old; her mouth tasted like bile. Dimly, she hoped she had projectile-vomited on one of her captors.

Her knees trembled and her shoulders ached from holding her arms above her head, but they were bound magically to whatever it was she was tied to. She felt hollow, like she should have been hungry, or angry, or terrified, but thoughts of herself failed her. She wondered if her family was all right. The circumstances of her abduction eluded her, were hidden behind a curtain of fog.

There was a whisper, seemingly far-off, just above her auditory threshold. Out of habit she turned her head in that direction to look, but her dim eyes perceived nothing. A door opened, she could tell by the sound, though it was not the sound of a conventional door opening. The room brightened, then dimmed as it was closed again.

"I see you've waited up for me." The words were spoken with clear malice, and she recognized the voice from somewhere- a place that seemed so very far away from the dank hole in which she was imprisoned.

She should have been afraid, or maybe cowed, or at the very least resigned- but some part of her personality had remained. She raised her eyebrows in the general direction of the voice. "Actually you've just woken me from a rather pleasant nap," her ill-used voice rasped. She felt like she was screaming, but in reality she barely spoke above a whisper. "So if you don't mind-"

His stinging slap cut off her sentence, and she tasted blood in her mouth. "I will dictate when you sleep and when you do not," he intoned. "If you have been able to rest despite your present circumstances, I shall find some new way to keep you awake."

She closed her eyes again, since there was nothing else she could do to indicate that she wasn't listening.

His blow landed on the other cheek this time; tears glistened in her eyes at the force, but she didn't let them fall, and she was fairly sure he'd split her lip open. The pain had once been a welcome distraction from her tormentor's words, but she now seemed compelled to listen anyway. "Insolent girl. Worthless Mudblood. Why the Dark Lord has chosen you, I cannot begin to fathom- but since I can't kill you and you won't join us yet, let me point out why it's in your best interest to make your decision soon." He began to mutter quietly.

The bindings on her wrists started to chafe and burn, searing her flesh. Reflexively she struggled against her bonds, but the struggle only made the pain worse and she soon gave up. One of her fingers snapped at his command. She tried to scream, but could barely manage a whimper.

"See what pain it will cause you to defy the Master?"

Her throat constricted. She hadn't even known there was a spell to do that, and there wasn't much that she didn't know about magic. She fought for breath as pain exploded in her belly, her right thigh, her neck.

"You can rest assured, my dear Mudblood, that this will not stop until you have made the correct decision."

"Kill me," she demanded, not caring to live any longer. "You know I will never join you."

"Oh, I think not. I think you just need more convincing. _Crucio_."

Her pain tripled. She tried to double over to ease the tearing of her stomach, but her wrists burned and held her standing; she bit her lip to keep from screaming aloud again. There was no sound, and no room; nothing except pain.

Then, suddenly, her world stopped.

"I see you are bound quite closely to the light." There was a subtle change in the voice; it became thicker, silkier. Some primal part of her mind recoiled from it.

"Perhaps pain is not something that can break a young... lady... such as yourself." She could feel his breath on her cheek. Her stomach roiled, but there was nothing left in it to reject.

Thin, callused fingers trailed down her neck to her breast. She shuddered, but could not move away. Air stirred elsewhere in the room, and she thought she heard a sound-

And then only disgust, as he cupped her between her legs and she retched, but there was no escape-

A bell sounded, somewhere past the door and far away from her world, and the man hit her again, spat on her cheek and left. She trembled in his wake, head hanging, and felt the blood drip from her face onto the ground. Air continued to stir in her small cell, but it could not hold her interest. She shivered, noticing the cold for the first time, and didn't care.

There was a sudden exhalation that wasn't her own, and she lifted her head in spite of herself.

"I thought he'd never leave," came the voice, and all she could make out was a shadowy shape in the grayness that surrounded her. "I wanted to stop him, but I couldn't gi-"

He was familiar. She knew this. She tried squinting, but she couldn't make him out. And then the memory of his voice, the slight accent, the timbre-

It was impossible. And yet, she knew without a doubt that it was true. "_Potter?!_"

*

His world stopped. He wished he hadn't just heard what he thought he'd just heard. Hiding in his father's study while an emergency meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was held was not something he was unused to, and James Potter had heard terrible things before.

"When was she taken?" his father asked Dumbledore tiredly.

"Two days ago," the Headmaster replied. He looked older than James had ever seen him. "She was visiting a Muggle friend."

Professor McGonagall spoke up next. "The Muggles?"

"All dead," confirmed Alastor Moody.

James shivered. He had run missions for the Order before, unbeknownst to all save Dumbledore and one or another member. He had been of age since February of his sixth year, and there had been nothing the old man could do to stop him from volunteering. James simply saw no reason to worry his parents with his involvement, and as a legal adult, it was his prerogative.

But right now he was too stricken to do much of anything. It couldn't be true.

Sirius Black, his best friend and teenage runaway, sat pale in an armchair by the fire. James knew that Sirius must be nearly as affected as him, especially knowing that his besotted friend was in the room with him. With a family tree full of Dark wizards, Sirius was a very valuable member of the Order of the Phoenix- James had once been jealous of the attention, the contribution, of the fact that Sirius had spied for two years before James had been allowed to contribute. Now he could see that Sirius would have given anything to trade places with him.

"We have to go after her."

James had never been more grateful for his best friend than at that moment. The girl he loved was being held prisoner, had been a prisoner for two days already. There was no telling what they'd done to her- she could be starving, unconscious, tortured, dead-

"We have no plan, Mr. Black, no real information about where she is being held in this facility, and no chance of a rescue without alerting Voldemort to a security leak."

Sirius remained firm. "Then let me go. I can pretend to offer my service. My cousin is staying at the Lestrange estate this summer, anyway. I can bluff my way out if I'm caught."

"Absolutely not."

James' temper was wearing extremely thin.

"Look, Mr. Potter, I understand that you think I'm just a kid with anger management issues, and maybe you're right. But you can't leave a sixteen-year-old girl to die just because you don't know how to save her."

Mr. Potter looked more than ready to offer a scathing retort, but Dumbledore held up a hand and forestalled any comment. "I wonder if I might have a word with Mr. Black alone?"

James very nearly gave himself away with his sigh of relief, and threw off the cloak once the adults had left.

Dumbledore wasted no time getting down to business. He handed Sirius a rolled scrap of parchment and James a silver pocket watch with a very long chain. "The dots on the map there are people, Sirius; since you haven't got an Invisibility Cloak you should be able to work your way around people that way. Traps and wards should show up in red. Boys, that Portkey will reactivate two hours from when you first use it, so I suggest you use your time there wisely." He stopped, seeming reluctant and tired, then continued. "I know I don't need to stress the importance of this rescue- but Lily Evans will have some part to play in this war, whether on our side or theirs. Now, go quickly, before the other members are back. I fear I may be losing their trust already." He Disapparated with a soft pop, and James and Sirius were left to regard each other apprehensively. Evans was a prisoner, and it was up to them to save her.

*

The two boys tumbled out of thin air into a thicket, then crouched and brushed as many of the thorns away as they dared. Sirius pulled out the map as James tucked the pocket watch under a bush. "This would be a lot more convenient if the dots were labeled," Sirius grouched, touching his wand to the parchment. "_Locate_." Two of the dots glowed blue, far away from the outlines of the formidable estate. "That's us, Prongs. See a way in?"

James traced his wand over the parchment, swerving slightly when he encountered the red lines and fields. "This is impossible," he muttered, still trying to wind his way through.

"Here," Sirius offered, pulling the map towards him. "There are only two ways in. The first is to approach directly- head anywhere other than straight for the door and you're toast. That's to prevent people from sneaking up on them. The Death Eaters will have a different entrance- just in case the house is under surveillance." He examined the booby traps for a few minutes. Finally, he murmured, "Of course."

  
The two boys approached the house from the far side, slanting inward only slightly. Under cover of darkness, and sharing James' Invisibility Cloak, even if they were being watched they would be hard to spot. They made their way through a winding, carnivorous hedge first, tracing out the rough shape of a V. Sirius nearly took a very wrong turn, and only James' hold on the back of his robes under the Cloak saved them from being plant food. At the top of the V they turned almost 180 degrees, and abruptly faced the end of the maze.

"So far, so good," murmured Sirius, taking out the map again.

They passed what they might have seen as a Boggart, if they had been able to see it- it was not able to see them, and so it went unnoticed. "You take care of making sure we stay on course," James whispered, "and I'll take care of these." They had come upon a group of hinkypunks. Grindylows were next, but finally the only thing between the would-be rescuers and the back entrance was a massive Sphynx.

A sphynx that was not fooled by the Cloak.

Its massive head lowered and stared them in the eyes. When it spoke, its voice was a distant rumble in James' mind.

****

Sphynx am I, and mortal, you,  
seeking passage to her tomb.  
Riddle I and answer you,  
Later enter, first pursue:  
What's the answer to my rhyme?  
You have a half an hour's time.

__

Tomb. That was more than James needed to hear. But then, that's what Sphynxes had been originally enslaved for, wasn't it? He hoped that this was just the same spiel every wary traveler got before the Sphynx swallowed them whole. He was hoping not to get swallowed, in any case.

****

As small as an ant,  
big as a whale,  
approach like a breeze,  
come like a gale.  
By some I am hit,  
all have shown fear,  
I dance to the music,  
though I cannot hear.  
Names have I many,  
Names have I one,  
As slow as a snail,  
from me you can't run.

What could be as small as an ant and as large as a whale? James wondered. It seemed to be contradictory. Something that could change sizes? The next few clues were about wind. Maybe wind was the answer? But that seemed too obvious... besides, wind wasn't as small as an ant, was it? Or as slow as a snail, for that matter.

__

What could the answer be? James thought furiously. What danced but couldn't hear? He had heard light described as dancing in some book before, he thought, but light didn't approach like a breeze and it wasn't hit by things, really. It certainly wasn't as slow as a snail. What if there wasn't an answer? What if nothing was the answer? Nothing was as small as an ant and as big as a whale... he supposed you couldn't run from nothing...

But what if he was wrong?

James never got the chance to answer. Beside him, Sirius moved to stand in front of the Sphynx. "A shadow," he said. "The answer is a shadow."

****

Very well.

There was an almighty rumble as the great stone beast moved its body aside, and James and Sirius sneaked quietly past. The hair rose along James' neck as it moved back in place, closing off their escape. The two boys faced each other for a moment before James reached for the door.

There was no going back.

*


	2. Away

Fade II

Warning: Dark, sexual references, angst. Rated R.

Summary: A girl and a boy struggle to avoid their fate. Part two of four, sequel to _Change_ and _Fade In_, third in the _Paint the Sky _story arc.

__

Away

Oh, Merlin. He hadn't expected it to be this bad. After Sirius' knowledge of the Lestrange estate had gotten them past most of the wards and booby-traps, they'd split up to cover more grounds for the search. They'd agreed that after an hour, if they were unsuccessful, they would get out and head to a rendezvous, but James had ignored that entirely. He should have been there fifteen minutes previously, but instead he had had to sit and watch as Lestrange Senior tortured the ragdoll of a girl who had once been beautiful.

Lily's lips were cut, and a thin line of blood was dripping down her chin. The torn, dirty clothing she wore exposed barely-healed wounds on her arms and legs. Her face was gaunt and pale, she was trembling, and she was being tortured.

Cold fury welled within him and he reached for his wand, but he knew there was nothing he could do until Lestrange left the chamber. If his absence were noted, if he had to be anywhere at any time and didn't show up, people would become suspicious.

When Lestrange touched her, James blanched. The breath was forced out of him. The agony of watching the dirty, disgusting man abuse something so pure shocked and appalled him. He wanted to be sick. He considered a well-aimed Severing Charm. Mostly he wanted to erase the image from his retinas, and from Lily's memory. _God, Lily, I'm so sorry_. There was nothing he could do. He hated himself.

A bell clanged; it was midnight. Lestrange left the chamber and James pulled the Invisibility Cloak off as fast as he dared. "I thought he'd never leave." _What a stupid thing to say to someone who's been molested by a Death Eater! Brilliant, Potter. _"I wanted to stop him, but I couldn't gi-" _Give yourself away. Right._

"_Potter?!_"

__

You're mad. You've risked your life and the life of your best friend to save a girl who would just as soon spit on you as look at you. Worse, you're in love with her. And at one time he'd thought he deserved her, that she would be lucky to date a boy like him. Well, he was certainly starting to see the error of his ways. The arrogance of the Death Eaters was hauntingly familiar. "You don't know I'm here. I can't believe he- I mean I- shit." What could he tell her? He would be very surprised if she were coherent anyway, he decided. She'd lost a lot of blood and he doubted she'd eaten or had anything to drink; she was probably in shock. He touched his wand gently to her wounds, easing the pain as best he could, grateful for his mother's Healing abilities.

"How did you get here? Why didn't they see you? Why-" _Why am I putting myself in danger for someone who despises me? I'm having a hard time answering that myself. _Apparently Lily wasn't as incoherent as he'd expected.

So he avoided the question. "They've taken a lot of security measures to keep you here." For whatever reason, the Dark Side wanted her pretty badly. She was either bait for a trap or an attempted convert; with Lily's magical skill, he didn't doubt the latter. He lifted his eyes, and his attention, to the electric blue bindings on her wrists- highly illegal, painful, and difficult to remove. "These will be tough to crack. Hold still." If he did this wrong, it would sever her hands completely.

"You'll need the proper unlocking charm-" Her voice was tight, and she stopped talking. Her face was pointed downward, away from him, and he wondered if he had missed something- another cut maybe, anything-

"Good thing I pay attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts." He freed her hands at last and she stumbled off of the platform into his arms. "Careful." He held her up as best he could with his left arm and looked into her face, searching-

Her eyes, which should have been bright emerald, were pale and unfocused. She didn't make eye contact. He realized with a start that she was blind. _Oh God._

"James? Is that really you?" She reached for his face, smudging his glasses.

Mustn't get upset, mustn't lose composure. He spoke past the lump that had formed in his throat. "You were expecting Father Christmas? Come on, I've got a Invisibility Cloak, get under and let's get out of here." He prayed she was coherent and healthy enough to do that.

"But I don't, I don't-" She was probably also very close to the far side of sanity. "How? Why?"

"_Sedatio_," James murmured, noting as all the tension left her body that the concern had mostly gone from her face. He hoped he hadn't overdone it and made her completely unaware, but he couldn't walk around in dangerous territory with Lily teetering on the edge of hysteria. "Get under the cloak with me. We haven't got much time."

She did, clumsily. He could feel her ice-cold skin through her clothing, and cast a very quiet Warming Charm. "Where are we going?"

"Home," he answered. "Now, we're going to have to be very quiet, but I need to know a few things ahead of time. Do you think you can walk?"

She wobbled a bit, and James reached out an arm to steady her. "Yes, but you might have to help."

He wrapped it around her waist as a more permanent means of stabilizing her walking, hoping it would help keep them both covered by the cloak as well. "That's fine. Do you know the way out?"

"No, I don't remember how I got here- James, _I can't see_!"

He was afraid his heart might break. Never had Lily Evans, Muggle-born witch, know-it-all and do-gooder extraordinaire, expressed anything other than complete confidence and control, except perhaps rage. Seeing her so afraid, so vulnerable, was gut-wrenching. Subconsciously, his grip around her waist tightened. "That's what I've got glasses for," he said. His voice cracked around the lump his throat, difficult and painful to speak past. "Never mind about anything except getting out of here, okay?"

"Okay." She trusted him. Whether or not it was because she was sedated was anyone's guess. James drew the hood of his cloak over his head and walked very carefully over to the door.

It was spell-proof, so he couldn't see what was on the other side, but the inside wasn't locked- there was no danger of Lily escaping by herself, not when she was blind and bound and tortured and freezing. Raising his wand just in case, but praying he wouldn't need it, he opened it quickly and pulled it shut behind them.

There was no one in sight, and as Lily was standing on his foot, he urged her forward again, hoping he could find his way out of the dismal basement. The longer they stayed here, he reasoned, the better the chances of getting caught.

__

Okay… left at that tapestry… make sure to tap the third brick on the left… He dragged Lily up against the wall with him as two Death Eaters walked by, perilously close. His heart stopped. _Please let Lily stay quiet…_

And then it didn't seem to matter if she were quiet any longer. A loud klaxon blared somewhere, magical in origin no doubt, and a third Death Eater strode down the corridor. "The prisoner has escaped," he announced dourly in a voice that James didn't recognize. "Split up and search the grounds."

When they were gone, James practically ran outside, past the wards, barely remembering to avoid the booby traps, outside the gates to the meeting place.

Sirius was there, looking a haggard combination of exhausted and worried. He had been using a combination of charms to keep himself from being seen- Disillusionment, Evasive and Unremarkable- and would still have had to keep himself extremely well hidden.

James threw the cloak on the ground, then set Lily down very gently on the grass.

"James, what the _hell_ do you mean by staying in there an extra half- oh, oh Merlin." Sirius' face was ashen. "What did they-"

"No time," James answered. "Where's the Portkey?"

Sirius reached under a bush, then checked his watch. "Still cutting it a little close, Prongs- two minutes until activation."

James looked down at Lily's barely conscious form and muttered, "_Enervate_," hoping two minutes wouldn't make too much of a difference.

They appeared again in the Potters' drawing room, battered but alive. James, who had been supporting Lily with one arm in the few seconds before the Portkey activated, now looped his other arm underneath her legs to keep her from falling. She made no move to even hold on; her grasp on reality was slipping. Swaying slightly, James managed, "Sirius, find my mum."

Sirius tore off in one direction yelling for Mrs. Potter, and James eased through the doorway towards the dining room, careful not to bump Lily's head.

His father was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper; he never went to bed until he'd read every article. When he looked up to speak, all the color faded from his face. "Good Lord. Get her to the spare bedroom, James, quickly."

James was so shocked that he hadn't been chewed out that for a moment, he didn't move. Then he headed for the stairs as quickly as he could. Mr. Potter followed at his heels, firing questions at him.

"Do you know what curses they used?"

He shook his head. "Looked a lot like regular physical abuse to me. And _Crucio_. She was freezing cold, too. And they used Severing Restraints." Gently, he laid Lily on the bed. "She was hysterical," he whispered, touching her cold cheek and then turning around to finally face his father. "I sedated her. Just enough so she didn't worry." Had that been wrong? He longed to ask. Right then she looked like she might not wake up again.

"Okay," said his mother, securing her bathrobe around her waist and hurrying into the room. She pointed to her husband. "Out, please. James knows what's happened, no one else. You should contact the Order, Dumbledore especially."

Mr. Potter left, and James was left standing with his mother, wondering.

"What happened?" she asked briskly, casting Sterilizing Charms on the wounds James had numbed.

"Er," said James. "She was kidnapped... so we rescued her."

His mother did not look up from her work. "Not what I need to be hearing right now. Did you hear what curses hit her?"

He shook his head. Now was not the time to be emotional; none of that would help Lily. "I wasn't there for much of it. I saw the Cruciatus, but it looked like there was physical abuse before that. I think some of her smaller bones are broken- I didn't hear the curses he used, but I could hear them breaking. Maybe versions of the Reductor. They had Severing Restraints on her and I think she has a mild case of hypothermia, maybe hysteria too." He was quiet until his mother's gaze found him again, and then he felt his heart constrict a little. Fiddling with the corner of the bedsheet, he whispered, "She's blind, Mum. I don't know what spell they used. Her eyes are the wrong color and she can't see and how's she going to finish school if she can't read? She was going to be Head Girl."

When he dared look up at her, Mrs. Potter's lips were pursed in a thin line. She shook her head. "Never mind that, now. Go on and talk to your father and Dumbledore, you've helped all you could."

He rose only slowly, not at all reassured by his mother's words, and left to face his punishment.

Thunder boomed outside her window, jolting Lily from her sleeplike state. She shivered in the cold, pulling the blankets up to her chin, as her eyes darted sightlessly around the room. There were flashes of light, that much she could discern, and shadows. If she listened carefully she could also hear little noises in the dark, surrounding her. The dark crept closer.

Another roll of thunder and tears started rolling down her cheeks. They were coming for her again, and this time there would be no escape, not if _they _were in James' house, this time they would take care of him first.

__

This stupid gift, Lily thought to herself angrily. _Why couldn't it have been anyone else?_ She tried to calm herself, reasoning that the Potters' defenses were nearly impenetrable, that _they_ wouldn't dare another abduction so soon. Her attempts crumbled with the next crack of thunder. Cold invaded her blankets. The little noises seemed closer to her bed. She fancied maybe Miranda's ghost was paying her a visit, and lay paralyzed, wondering if her friend blamed her. Wind raged and howled and rattled the windowpane, and Lily shivered. It would be worse still if Miranda's family blamed her- Miranda had been standing in the doorway when… but whatever had happened afterward evaded her; she hadn't been able to see.

She could not sit through the fear any longer. Blindly, she stumbled out of bed and to the door, ignoring the chill of the stone floor on her feet, letting her memory of the estate's layout be her guide. A light that still glowed up above her provided a landmark; Lily counted the ten paces to the light, then ten more to the next room, arms stretched in front of her. The cool metal knob turned easily and she stepped inside.

Shivering again, Lily pushed the door closed as quietly as she could. This room had no lights on, which was presumably because its occupant was sleeping. Blindly, quickly to evade her fear and the cold, she guided herself around the chamber, lightly touching the wall and assuming that what she was looking for would be pressed against it.

Luckily, her assumption proved correct. It was not long before Lily's fingers came into contact with a soft blanket and then a mattress. Warmth. Someone was sleeping in this bed already. But, after all, she told herself, wasn't that the point? She felt around a little more until she had a reasonable approximation of where this particular bed's occupant was sleeping, then climbed into bed beside him.

Warmth. This bed was very warm, comforting. Her fears ebbed a little. Not cold. She knew that she could never go back to the cold. The boy beside her stirred and mumbled something in his sleep, or possibly not, then turned and sneaked an arm around her waist. A part of her mind, distant and ignored, wondered exactly how intelligent of her it was to sneak into bed with a boy she previously was known to loathe. It was overruled by the heat emanating from his body, anyway. Lily noted with a blush that her new bedmate wasn't wearing very much in the way of pajamas. Light continued to flash through the windows, but already she had given herself to sleep, and darkness.

Morning was always about two hours too early, James decided, burying his face under his pillow to avoid the light that was invading his room. Bed was so nice. Especially when his dreams had been filled with visions of redheaded girls sharing a bed with him. He brought his arm up to use as a pillow beneath the one shielding his eyes- or tried to. Said arm seemed to be occupied with something much more important. _What on Earth_…_?_

He lifted his head- and, thus, the pillow- off of the mattress and blearily opened his eyes.

__

Oh my. James was fairly certain that whatever the circumstances that had turned his unexpected houseguest into an unexpected bedguest were, they were not the ones that had dominated his particularly vivid dream of the night before. _This could get interesting_. A further appraisal of his situation: _Whatever evolutionary dictate came up with morning wood, anyway?_ Well, he was sharing a bed with his redhead of choice, anyway, might as well make the best of it.

Lily was nestled very close to him, her side up against his body. Her body, clad in one of his mother's oversized nightgowns, seemed ridiculously childlike and small until he considered the curves of her breasts, which he could feel rising from just above where his arm rested. Fanned across his second pillow was a brilliant red wave of soft hair; her pale face was tilted towards him, nestled near his chest. For once, James was grateful for his myopia; though it was unfortunate on the Quidditch pitch, in early morning he found that passable vision for up close was infinitely preferable.

__

Am I still dreaming? he wondered. _Nah. She's wearing too much clothing. This is definitely real_. And there was indeed something very real about her, and very fragile. He found himself both unwilling and unable to move, to wake her. He knew that she had hardly slept since she'd woken two days previously, and couldn't blame her. Dumbledore had hidden her parents away to keep them safe, but James had to wonder how long that would last. His heart wrenched for her.

__

Come on, Potter, snap out of it! One night in bed with the girl and you've lost your mind. There was no further time to ponder that, though; Lily was stirring.

Pale green eyes opened, a little darker than they'd been the day before, and Lily moved her head around as though disoriented.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, smiling, before he could stop himself.

She froze for a moment, then seemed to recall whatever had driven her there the previous night. She promptly buried her face in his pillow. "Oh, God…" The tips of her ears were as red as her hair.

This was not the reaction James had been expecting. He'd anticipated anger, perhaps, or maybe stunned silence, an awkward moment or two. Come to think of it, he hadn't really thought about Lily's possible reactions at all, which was a bit stupid of him, really. He missed the old Lily, but he supposed he'd have to make do with a sensitive one for the time being. _Well, Potter, this is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into. Let's see how you are at damage control. _He struggled for words. "Hey… Look, don't do that. Did you have a nightmare?" Bravely, he reached out and rubbed one hand up and down her back. He bit his lip nervously. "This bed's big enough for two- believe me, I don't mind." Then, resolving to be a little more serious, "I'm glad that you decided to come here. That you trust me not to take advantage of you." _Way to go, Romeo_, he thought to himself. _You sound like a bad WWN drama._

Lily raised her head and looked in his general direction. "Thank you," she whispered, and he hoped she wasn't going to cry. "I was just- it was so cold."

Like it had been in her cell, James hypothesized. After her rescue, she'd been declared too weak to be moved for at least ten days. "Well, I can get some extra blankets for your bed…" he began, knowing that was not quite what he wanted, and that he most likely wasn't going to get what he wanted. He supposed that that was okay, as long as Lily felt safe. "Or I could um, talk to Mum and Dad, if you want to stay in my room, we could bring in another bed… and if you still want to share occasionally, I won't object."

She attempted a meek smile. "I think my vision is coming back," she said to change the subject. "I can see shapes now, instead of just dark and light patches."

"Mum says you should have your sight back in full by October. You're lucky they wanted you alive." Maybe not so lucky, he thought darkly. His stomach still churned from what he'd seen of her torture. Some things still didn't make sense to him- like why she had been kept alive when it was well-known that she was a Muggle-born. Any other Muggle-born would have been killed without a thought. Her blindness was another matter of confusion.

He had expected her to turn away a bit, but he supposed that since she couldn't see him anyway, it didn't matter. "Not what I would call luck," she said bitterly, her forehead creasing. "I didn't ask for this."

"No one ever does." It was an empty comfort, and he knew it even as her eyes filled up with tears only to be squeezed shut tightly. Lily's entire body stiffened, and a single sob escaped her before she lurched-

James barely caught her before she tumbled to the floor. "My baby," said Lily, quite suddenly. He very nearly dropped her. Baby? "The baby, how is the baby?"

"Just fine," he answered numbly, not wanting to upset her further. His blood ran cold. Something was very definitely wrong with Lily's mind. Was this another side effect of her torture? He was quite sure that Lily was not pregnant; it would have been impossible after… after what she had been through. His stomach wrenched. He supposed she could have been… "He's just fine, Lily, don't worry."

Her heaving subsided a little, and she sighed. "Oh, Harry's got your hair. I don't know whether to laugh or cry." She smiled vaguely down at nothing. "And so awake. Look at those green eyes."

All the hair on James' neck stood straight up and he shivered, jerking Lily's body involuntarily. Before he could say anything, she spoke again. "James Potter! Are you trying to take advantage of me?"

"Umm?" he managed weakly, still very confused at what had just happened. Lily seemed to have forgotten about any baby, and he wasn't going to bring it up again out of fear of incurring another episode. "No, but I wouldn't blame myself if I was. Anyway, aren't you hungry? Let's get some breakfast." James climbed out of bed, not really self-conscious of his state of dress (or lack thereof) since Lily couldn't see him anyway, and pulled on an old bathrobe. He bit his lip, watching nervously. Would Lily be offended if he offered to help her? She was walking very slowly, with her hands stretched out slightly in front of her.

When she tripped a bit on the edge of the rug, he jumped into action, grabbing her by the elbow. "Watch your step," he said gently, leading her to the door. "Do you think you can handle the stairs? There are a lot of them."

"I'm blind, not crippled. There's a banister; I'll be fine." At least she hadn't shaken off his hand. James counted that as progress.

"Last one," he said as they neared the bottom of the stairs. Lily put her foot down a bit heavily, but caught herself before she could stumble.

When she had corrected her footing, she asked conversationally, "So what's for breakfast?"

James had been thinking about that. He supposed it would be embarrassing for her to have to be fed since she couldn't see her food, and frustrated if she had difficulty feeding herself. "Umm… muffins?"

Lily was halfway through her breakfast when an owl swooped into the window and deposited two good-sized envelopes on top of the plate of bacon.

"Looks like Hogwarts letters," said James, reaching for them and brushing the majority of the grease off. "Yours, too. Dumbledore knows you're here." He paused, unsure if he should ask if she wanted him to open her letter.

"Could you read mine, please?"

James ripped open the second envelope and unfolded the parchment enclosed. He cleared his throat.

__

Dear Miss Evans,

Welcome back to your final year at Hogwarts. Please find enclosed a list of schoolbooks and supplies. Also, please have your Head Student address prepared-

He stopped. _So she is Head Girl. _"Oops. Sorry, Lily, I guess I skipped the important one. Congratulations!"

She blushed red to the roots of her hair. "Thanks. Um, does it say who Head Boy is?"

He skimmed through the rest of the letter. "Not on this one. Let me check the other." He picked up one of the other sheets of parchment and read.

__

Dear Miss Evans,

We are pleased to announce that you have been selected as Head Girl for the 1977 school year. Your duties will include organizing school events, scheduling and assisting with patrols when necessary. Please prepare an address to the school Prefects for 1 September. Also, find enclosed the mailing contact of this year's Head Boy.

Congratulations!

M. McGonnagall,  
Deputy Headmistress

James Potter  
Head Boy  
Wildwood Manor,  
Godric's Hollow

James let the paper slip through his fingertips. Was Dumbledore crazy? No one in the school had such a diverse detention and troublemaking record as James Potter. He was supposed to set an example?

"James? What's wrong? It's not Snape, is it?"

He shook his head, then realized again that Lily couldn't see him. "Um, no." He paused awkwardly.

"Well, who is it then?"

James fidgeted. "Me."

Lily choked on her muffin. "Excuse me? Is this your idea of a joke?"

He frowned at her. "Hey, my grades are as good as yours. Besides, I was nice to you about it. What do I want with responsibility?"

She flushed again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like it did. But I thought you had to be a Prefect to make Head Boy?"

James had thought so, too. "I guess not." But then, the Gryffindor Prefect was a little incapable of handling certain duties at certain times of the month. Maybe there was some reason to the selection after all? "Maybe they're giving me credit for extra-curriculars instead."

Smiling a little, she said, "You mean like the time you made Lara Notshead's nose grow every time she started gossiping?"

"And anytime she bragged about how much weight she was losing, she looked like she gained five pounds?"

Lily sighed contentedly. "I must admit, that was one of your more appreciated pranks. Lara Notshead is such a twerp."

James exaggerated a gasp. "What's this I hear? Not only does Lily Evans have a sense of humor, but she actually _actively dislikes_ someone besides me? I'll never see the world the same way again."

Silence reigned, and James wondered if he had taken this exaggeration too far. "I don't hate you," Lily said quietly, putting down her muffin. Though he knew she couldn't see, her eyes seemed focused on her plate. "You haven't been what I've accused you of in a long time."

There was another long stretch of quiet in which James had to decide how to respond. He felt relieved, and uncomfortable, and his heart pounded just a little harder than he felt was actually necessary. An old part of him was almost tempted to kiss her, thinking this might be as close as he ever got to amicability from her. Finally, he just said, "Thank you." She smiled slightly, and he thought that, just maybe, this could be the beginning of a strange, if not beautiful, friendship.

James had just started clearing the dishes when he heard the _pop_ of the Floo from the sitting room. "James!" his mother's voice called. "Bring our houseguest to the fireplace, would you?"

"Yes, Mum!" he yelled back, depositing the armload of dishes in the sink. Maybe it was time for some levity- they'd had precious little of that in the past few days. "It appears you have a social call, Miss Evans," he said cheerfully, wiping his hands on a dishrag. He swept his arms out and caught her in them, tossing her over his shoulder with a grin. "Mustn't keep anyone waiting."

"James Potter!" Lily shrieked, squirming in his grip. "Put me down, you caveman!" But she was laughing and insulting him at the same time, and he counted that as definite progress.

Whistling slightly, James deposited Lily unceremoniously in the armchair by the fireplace. "Hullo, Mum. You wanted to see us?"

Chuckling, Mrs. Potter shook her disembodied head. "I didn't say anything about wanting to see you, James."

He pouted. Lily poked her tongue in his general direction.

"Lily, your parents would like to bring a few friends to visit for your birthday tomorrow. Do you think you're up to it?"

James poked her in the side. "You didn't tell me you had a birthday coming up."

Lily ignored him. "That sounds lovely, Mrs. Potter. Are you sure it's okay? I don't want to be a bother."

"Oh, it's no trouble. I'll just leave James to do the organizing," his mother teased.

James blew a raspberry. "Just kidding. I'd be glad to."

"Well, that's settled, then," Mrs. Potter declared from the fireplace. "I've got to be going- my break's over. Why don't you two make up a guest list so that I know how many people to expect?"

A few moments later, James and Lily sat down at the kitchen table to make their list. "Sirius ought to be there," Lily said, sounding to James as if she were speaking around a large amount of pride. "He… he's changed, I think. Grown up a bit."

"A lot," James agreed darkly, missing his old friend- the laughing, almost-cruel Sirius- for a brief moment. "Questioning his actions is not something the Blacks taught him." Sirius' proud, pureblood family sometimes seemed as dark as its name suggested. He shrugged. "You've met his brother- that's what the rest of his family is like."

Lily's face betrayed her surprise. "I didn't know that Sirius had a brother."

He supposed that the brothers didn't exactly socialize openly at school. "Sure, Regulus Black."

"The Slytherin?" She was quiet for a minute. "I guess that explains a lot of things."

"Don't tell him I told you. Sirius doesn't live at home anymore- he was staying here, but there was just so much going on when you came back- he went to Remus Lupin's. He didn't want to be in the way."

"I like Remus," Lily said after a long pause during which she fidgeted with her hands. "He can come, too. And Marianne and Alice Philips, and Renata Chryse."

James smiled dryly. "Would you like to invite any more of my ex-girlfriends, Lily?"

"At least I don't want to invite Snape."

"Not that he'd come."

"True." She bit her lip; James did his utmost not to find it fascinating. "Do you think it would be alright if I invited a Muggle friend? I- he knows about magic already. He was there when… when I was kidnapped."

James' heart melted and sunk to somewhere around his knees. He took a deep breath. Why was he always alone when Lily asked questions like this one? "Lily… the Priams are dead." He swallowed. "The Death Eaters killed them right in front of you." When there was no reaction, he prodded gently, "Don't you remember?"

"No," she said quietly, eyes fixed on her hands. "No, I would know. I would know if John were dead. Wouldn't I?"

"I'm really sorry, Lily." _Sorry_ had never felt emptier.

Lily Evans put her head down on the table and cried.


	3. Through

Fade III

__

part two of the Paint the Sky _anthology  
part three of _Fade  
_by lone astronomer_

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related names, locations, etc. are property of J. K. Rowling. No profit is being made and no infringement is intended. The line re: wolves who live with people, is shamelessly filched from the _Discworld_ series by Terry Pratchett. I own a copy of the book but not the copyrights, so I'm actually losing money on that one. I have a feeling I also stole one of James' lines from Han Solo of _Star Wars_ (expanded universe) fame, so _I'm telling you, L, the guy is slime!_ gets credited to Dave Wolverton and _The Courtship of Princess Leia._

Summary: Remus is moody; Lily is distant; Sirius bears his heart. James pretends to be oblivious, until he makes a discovery that changes everything.

__

Through

__

I might've known I'd be skipping these stones  
Alone on this October night

-Jamie Williams, _Goodbye July_

"Happy birthday, Lily!" Sirius said with a grin that was only half-forced, pumping her hand vigorously. "How does it feel to finally be legal?"

She gave a watery smile, and Sirius' grin wavered. It had only been two weeks since her impromptu rescue, but he thought she ought to have a little more life in her than she seemed to. She was living with the Potters, after all, and they were hardly a slothful bunch. "Thank you. About the same, I think. Why? Do I look different?"

__

Yes, Sirius decided to himself. Paler, drawn, too thin. Fragile and small rather than tempestuous. James would be heartbroken. "A bit older, maybe," he fibbed, injecting his voice with whatever false cheer he could. "How's your eyesight?"

"Awful," she admitted. "James says it won't be back until October, really."

__

James says, Sirius noted, _not Mrs. Potter says. _"How are the two of you getting on?"

There was a pause that was almost too long, and he wondered what she could be thinking. More likely than not she had cottoned on to what he was really asking about, and was trying to be tactful. Or maybe there was something between her and James that was theirs alone and not to be shared. Sirius could certainly understand that. "Better than I expected," Lily finally answered him, but she sounded unsatisfied with it.

"But?"

The ghost of a smile danced across her lips and faded; it was like an emotional eclipse. "Not as well as James might like," she offered flatly. "Could you point me towards the house, Sirius? I need to use the loo."

He did so, feeling oddly as if a door somewhere had been shut in his face and then locked. He watched her as she walked toward the house, her gait unsteady until she reached the back porch. Sirius felt distinctly uneasy- he knew he wasn't Lily's favorite person, but he'd thought that perhaps they could learn to get along. Now it seemed that Lily wasn't willing to make any effort at all- at _anything_.

"Not a cheerful sight, is it," James commented quietly from behind him. There was no hint of a question in his voice.

"Cheerful as a funeral," agreed Sirius darkly. "It's as if nothing means anything to her anymore. I can see that, and I've only talked to her for five minutes."

His friend sighed and flopped down onto the damp grass. "I don't know what to do, Sirius."

Biting his lip, Sirius lowered himself into a crouch. "How has she been? I mean, aside from quiet."

"Odd," was James' eventual response. He let out a long breath. "Do you remember hearing that she was with a Muggle family when she was abducted?" Sirius nodded. "They're dead," James said without inflection. "Killed right in front of her. Lily didn't remember seeing any of it, but Dumbledore thinks she must have. He doesn't think she was blind yet when the Death Eaters started torturing them."

Sirius felt his stomach clench. People like his family- like the people who had raised him- they had done this.

"Anyway, she didn't remember. So when Mum suggested that we have a party for her birthday, she wanted to invite them."

In the silence that followed, horror and dread battled in Sirius' heart. They had reached a stalemate when James continued.

"Before she went… distant, I guess, she told me a bit about them. She'd known John and Miranda Priam since she was a little girl. They were all about the same age- the Priams weren't twins, but they were only eleven months apart and in the same grade at school. Last summer she and John had a - I don't know, I didn't ask for details - a fling, maybe? But he was in love with her and she didn't want a relationship when she could never be totally honest. This summer she was just visiting Miranda and I think she'd decided to give John another chance…"

He didn't finish, just watched the door to the house as Lily emerged again, escorted by her parents.

Sirius cleared his throat in what he hoped was an inconspicuous manner. "She does seem to have that problem, with people falling in love with her and whatnot."

James' face closed. "I miss her, Sirius. I miss her scolding and taking house points. I miss the insufferable know-it-all. I wish she'd tell me off. But it's like you said- she doesn't _care_."

"She'll come out of it." He wished he were as certain of this as he sounded. Sirius knew firsthand how much it could hurt to have someone shut you out, especially when it was someone you cared for deeply. Looking at James, he could see more than a small share of the bitterness and self-loathing he had felt when he had betrayed Remus. But Remus' withdrawal had been Sirius' fault, and James was merely a victim. "It will take some time, but she'll be alright."

His friend said nothing, just watched her from afar.

Later, Sirius deposited himself next to Lily on the sofa. Most of her guests had left, including her parents and all of James' ex-girlfriends. "So how come you didn't invite your sister?"

She gave a bit of a start, turning her head in his direction. "I imagine it was for some of the same reasons you wouldn't have invited your brother."

Sirius was a bit taken aback. "Your sister is a foul, tripe-for-brains Slytherin brat?"

Unsurprisingly, Lily didn't even smile. "Muggle equivalent, really, though as Head Girl I suppose I should be impartial to houses. Wizards aren't the only ones who can have funny ideas about blood." She gave a minute for this to sink in. "What do you care, anyway? Not enough females for you to occupy yourself with?"

If she was going to play the off-putting truth game, she was going to lose. "Me? No. Bit of a poof myself, really." It was a bit like outing himself to the whole world, but he would risk it, if there was a chance he could keep her from slipping away. He hadn't rescued her for nothing.

To his credit, Lily floundered for a moment or two, cheeks pink. "Oh." Then, "A lot of girls are going to be disappointed."

He smiled, a touch relieved. Maybe there was still a chance...? "Yes, but not heartbroken."

"No," she admitted. "They'll just latch on to James or Remus instead, I suppose. Er, do they know?"

"I've told James." Fairly recently, really- only after that incident with the Whomping Willow, and then only by accident. "I've not got the balls to tell Remus. And Peter… Peter just wouldn't understand. I don't know. Maybe someday." Sirius wondered when they had stopped talking about _her_. "Anyway, I got you something. You know, for your birthday."

She smiled a bit. "Oh- thank you. You didn't have to…"

"Nonsense. You're probably going to need it." He placed a small parcel in her hands. "Bet you can't guess what it is."

Lily snorted. "I don't think I'll take that bet." Her hands found the Spello-taped seams and pulled off the plain brown wrapping paper, then turned it over a few times. "Alright, I give up."

"It's a talking eyeglass," explained Sirius, feeling just a bit smug. After James had told him that Lily was to be Head Girl after all, he had done his best to come up with something to help her out. "Just put it on the cover of a book and tell it which pages you need- it will read them to you." He didn't add whose voice it read in- that was a part of the gift intended for later, for when Lily most needed to laugh.

"Really? Sirius, that's excellent!" Sirius had the benefit of seeing a full smile before Lily clumsily flung her arms around his neck. "It's just what I needed. Thank you." She was in the process of kissing him on the cheek when a noise in the doorway drew his attention.

__

Remus. He was standing under the arch with one hand in his pocket, his expression unreadable. "Didn't mean to interrupt," he said, a bit sharply, but didn't move.

Sirius froze. "Nonsense. We were just talking." Lily had unwrapped herself from around his neck, blushing slightly.

"Naturally. Directly into each other's ears, I suspect." Remus' eyes flickered to the window and back. "Don't let James catch you at that, Sirius. Do I assume correctly that he doesn't know you're in here?"

Sirius' patience was leaving him quickly. "Don't be a prat. Of course James knows- I just came in here to give her something."

"Of course James knows," repeated Remus dully. "I understand. It's always been _share and share alike_ between the two of you. I just never thought-" He looked away furiously again. "You don't _trust_ me."

Lily crossed her arms. "Remus, quit being morbid. I was thanking Sirius for the talking eyeglass. He certainly wasn't about to take advantage of me." Sirius thought he saw the corners of her mouth twitch and decided that perhaps, after what he had just revealed to her, the situation was a little funny. Then, to his shock, she _giggled_. "Don't worry about _that-_ I'm not his type."

A peculiar look sneaked onto Remus' face. "You're laughing at me!" he accused, trying to scowl but not managing more than a pout. His friend fought the urge to snicker- this close to the full moon, Remus was always a little touchy.

"Well, yes," replied the alleged tramp. "I've never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. If you'll excuse me, boys, I think I'm going to head to bed."

Sirius watched her leave, an uncharacteristic flush on his cheeks when he turned back to his friend. The two stared at each other a moment, and then Remus left, murmuring something about needing to talk to James. Sirius stared into the empty fireplace and wondered.

September first came and melted away into a flurry of NEWT classes, Quidditch games, pranks and homework, and before Sirius knew it an entire month was behind them. News of attacks and missing students and Dark Marks haunted the hallways, seeping insidiously into what had always seemed a safe haven. James and Lily were almost compatible as Head Girl and Head Boy, mostly because she was still playing the part of the unaffected damsel. The only time Sirius had seen her come out of it all month was the first time she set her talking eyeglass to a textbook, when it started reading a section on Love Potions in James Potter's voice. Sirius had been relieved that she couldn't see properly yet; she may have cursed him into oblivion. Still, in the end it had put a smile on her face. Often he didn't know what to think of her- she couldn't seem to decide whether she was going to let herself be infatuated with James or not. She went from distant and unaffected to prying in seconds, but never opened up herself. It was disconcerting.

Yet the thing that struck Sirius as oddest was the distance that James seemed to be putting between himself and Lily. Sirius knew that he, in a similar position, might milk the hero bit for a while or at least subject the object of his affections to some good-natured teasing, but then there were differences between him and James, and the nobility complex, however newly developed, was one of them. James had lusted after her openly for years, and now that she was starting to return the sentiment (at least on occasion) he was backing off. Sirius didn't understand, but then, it was likely he never would.

At that particular moment, Quidditch-star-turned-hero-turned-Head-Boy was blatantly ignoring the looks he was getting from across the table. _What a stupid thing to do_, Sirius thought, resolving to talk to James about it later. He looked down for a minute to give instructions to his rook, and glanced up to find Remus watching him oddly. Waiting for Remus' counter-offensive, he turned his attention back to James and Lily.

Confused, James thought, didn't even begin to describe it anymore. He was stuck, as it would seem, between a rock and a hard place. He couldn't take advantage of the devotion Lily had just recently deemed should be his. Devotion wasn't the same thing as love, and he wouldn't have anything less than the real thing. At the same time, he knew he was distancing himself from her to try to prevent her from excess hero-worship. It hurt; she was a staple and a constant in a life that was tumultuous, and falling out of love with her wasn't easy. He told himself that it was for his own good.

He told Lily, quite indirectly, that it was for hers. This was true, too; he wouldn't use her, and he wouldn't allow her to use him. After her abduction and temporary blindness she had been as his shadow, in bed and out of it. They hadn't slept together in the sexual sense of the term, though James knew if things continued that would inevitably change. So, despite Lily's protests and his own misgivings, he had sent her to her own bed in the Head Students dormitory of Gryffindor Tower once they had returned to school in September. They were still in close quarters- his room and hers both opened onto a third room meant for studying and planning events.

It was nearly Halloween now, and he could honestly say that he missed having her small, warm body next to him in bed. At the same time he felt his desire waning, and told himself that it was because Lily needed a friend more than anything.

He didn't tell Lily about _that_.

Someone kicked him under the table. "Earth to James. Anybody home?"

He looked up, startled. "Sorry," he apologized. "I was just thinking."

She nodded, and glanced quickly down and back up again. Four months ago, she wouldn't have broken his gaze. His heart ached a little at the change she'd undergone, but not as much as it should have. "I was just asking you about your alter-ego Prongs and when you decided to change."

"Oh." For a minute, he wondered if he had been talking of his Animagus form in his stupor, but then he realized what she meant. Snippets of the conversation flooded back to him. "It wasn't so much a conscious decision as it just happened," he shrugged, realizing that she was hero-worshipping him again. It made him uncomfortable.

"Come on," she cajoled. "It's like you went from Prongs the prank-happy prick to Captain Selfless overnight."

And that was true, and in a way it was because that was what he had chosen: honor over shame, action over indifference, integrity over everything. At the time he had hoped it wouldn't evolve into a trend, even as he had known that it would. Ever since that day under the Whomping Willow James had been a changed man. "I just had to grow up. Everyone's got to." And that was all that he could say, really, because he wasn't allowed to talk about that. It was ironic that by the time she'd noticed the man he'd become, he was trying to push her away.

Captain Selfless, indeed. Well, that was great. Something twisted inside of him; he knew full well that Lily wasn't getting his not-so-subtle hints. Sometimes he had to do things that he really wished he didn't. "What do you think of that Ravenclaw Prefect- Alice Stockwell?"

He saw confusion and then understanding fly across her face before she replaced it with a forced nonchalance. "Oh- she's nice enough, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking," he pretended to gaze out the window so she wouldn't know how blatantly he was lying, "about who I should invite to Hogsmeade." The old James would have probably thought the wounded look Lily was wearing was well-deserved; this James, seeing it, couldn't even bear to glance further in her direction. Just because he was falling out of love with her didn't mean he wished her any pain.

She was trying to smile. He could tell by the way her voice sounded. "Guess you're over me at last, eh?"

He managed to smile back, finally meeting her eyes. "Believe me, it happened at the most inconvenient of times." And maybe she would never know exactly what he meant by that.

For the third night in a row, James found himself waking to Lily murmuring in her sleep. He grimaced to himself for his lack of willpower; he could not bring himself to cast Silencing Charms, even at the cost of a normal sleep cycle. Sometimes he just needed to know. Pulling himself out of bed, he fumbled for his glasses and walked out his door.

In her room,Lily lay perfectly still in the moonlight, arms straight at her sides, fists closed gently around the sheets. Only her lips and eyelids were moving, hinting at something that James couldn't quite understand. He moved closer.

"Touchy? I think the word you're looking for is _possessive_, Sirius. Yes, that's exactly how I meant for it to sound. You don't hide it very well."

James frowned. This half-conversation was strikingly similar to the one he'd overheard the previous night. _There's a name for wolves who live with people, Remus. If he whistled…_Realization dawned and James sat down heavily on the floor. There was _no way_ that thought had only occurred to him now. He blinked a few times, testing out the idea in his brain. _If he whistled…_

On one level the idea was completely wrong, too twisted to function in reality. It worked directly against everything he knew and trusted. However, James was prepared to admit that Remus and Sirius were not to be classified under something seen as normal. Finally he shook his head and stood, returning to his own room to grab his Invisibility Cloak, and stepped out into the hallway.

It was well past curfew, and there wasn't another soul in sight as James wandered aimlessly through the corridors. Why was Lily dreaming out loud of conversations with his best friends? Why couldn't he successfully fool himself into not caring? And, most urgently, where had that doorway come from…?

A stone archway had just opened in the middle of what had been an unadorned wall, and James moved closer for a second look. Where was he? One minute he'd been in the library wing and the next… well, he wasn't in Gryffindor for nothing. Glancing around, he slipped under the arch.

The room on the other side was sparse, except in terms of dust. James fought the urge to sneeze. Faintly visible in the eerie light that filtered through the windows were two desks and a large, indistinct shape that was covered by a sheet. Curiously, he moved closer, taking the edge of the sheet in his hands. In for a dime….

The sheet fluttered to the ground and left James standing next to a large, ornate sheet of mirrored glass, adorned with some strange writing at the top. From that angle, he couldn't make out all the letters. He moved to stand in front of it, then stopped quite suddenly.

In the mirror was almost a perfect reflection of himself as he was now- tall, bespectacled, tousle-haired. It shouldn't have been there- he was still wearing the cloak. More disturbing, however, was the slight shape that stood in front of his mirror-self: a young woman with red hair and green eyes and his arms around her waist. He clamped down on the pang of longing. What sort of mirror was this, anyway? It saw through the cloak and it saw through _him, _it saw…

His gaze flickered up to the writing again, his mouth outlining the syllables in the night. What a strange mirror… how were you supposed to read the writing? _Erised stra ehru…_It wasn't any recognizable language as far as James could tell, so perhaps it was some sort of code or clever trick- how would he write on a mirror? Backwards? He smiled as he decoded the message. "I show not your face but your heart's desire." But the smile, looking back inside himself, didn't last long. He turned away, snorting dryly.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I've been expecting you."

James jumped halfway through his skin. "P-Professor!" he stammered, trying to slow his pulse. He took a few deep breaths. "Did you see- I mean…"

"Your deepest desires remain a mystery, Mr. Potter; the Mirror of Erised keeps all of our secrets. Though I believe I could hazard a guess." Dumbledore leaned forward in the desk, pressed his fingertips together and spoke slowly. "You'll forgive me if I ask you to remove the cloak. I'm afraid it's a bit of a strain on my eyes. I'm out of practice."

Dumbfounded, James could only do as he was asked. "You said you were expecting me."

"Oh, yes," replied his elderly mentor. "Please, have a seat. Could you, perhaps, enlighten me as to why you felt it necessary to roam the corridors after hours?"

He flushed a bit. He was certain Dumbledore already knew more than he was ready to tell him. "Um. Miss Evans talks in her sleep, sir. Loudly." His flush deepened.

"Undoubtedly something not even the strongest of Silencing Charms could dampen." In the pale light, James thought he detected an amused twinkle. "Have you given this any thought?"

"What, that she talks in her sleep?" Perhaps it was time to come clean. He hoped this wasn't violating Lily's trust in any way, but seeing as she had no idea what he was talking about, he guessed there wouldn't be a problem. "Well, yes. I mean… I mean a couple of times she's woken up screaming about something that shouldn't exist and when I ask her about it later she never remembers a thing and… I'm worried about her, sir. What's _wrong_ with her?"

A small smile twitched in the corner of the Headmaster's mouth. "Ah. Physically, I suspect, nothing, though she may be suffering from an emotional illness known as _sinus fragosus_."

"Er," said James, wishing he had taken up the study of Latin. "And that's serious, is it?"

"Oh, it could kill her," Dumbledore replied blithely. "But I don't think you'll let it. In any case, this is not the reason why your friend has been having strangely audible dreams. They should stop shortly, in fact." There was a short moment of quiet, and then, "Mr. Potter, did you never wonder why Miss Evans was abducted?"

James was stumped. Of course he had wondered- what did that have to do with anything? "Every day since it happened."

The old man sighed. "Your fellow head student was given a gift- and a curse. Did you know that she was a seventh daughter?"

He frowned. Seventh daughter? That would make her a Seer, not a sleep-talker. He supposed it would explain why she'd been abducted. "What do you mean? Lily's only got the one horrible sister. Doesn't she?"

"I imagine she often wishes that were the case. But no, her father has three other daughters from a previous marriage, and her mother miscarried twice before she was born. A seventh daughter, Mr. Potter. A true Seer."

"But that doesn't explain anything!"

Dumbledore sighed again. "I wish it didn't. You see, there were two possible motives for Miss Evans' abduction. The first was to procure a true Seer for the Dark forces for the upcoming war. The second was to deprive our side of the same advantage. Have you ever heard of a Sybil, Mr. Potter?"

"What, like the loony who graduated last year?" James was missing the connection, if there was any.

"Not quite. You see, a Sybil is a Seer whose optic nerves have been so severely impaired that, at least for a certain period of time, he or she is completely blind. All precognitive ability is then turned inward or, in a few poorly documented cases, a Sybil may begin to hear the subject of his or her prophecy. Unfortunately for Voldemort- and for us- when Lily was tortured every optic nerve was damaged so badly that they had to be completely regrown. By virtue of the sheer amount of magic that she absorbed, her gift was magnified a hundred times over, but because her optic nerves were essentially ruined, she can only predict her own future."

This was quite a lot for one seventeen-year-oldto absorb, so James stuck to what was familiar. "But why does she talk in her sleep?"

"When she lost her sight, Miss Evans' dreams consisted solely of sound. This proved a very convenient time for her precognition to manifest, since it didn't have to worry about interfering with consciousness or anything she might hear. It… adapted, I suppose, as a Sybil's precognition tends to do, so that she could only predict things while she was sleeping, and the meanings, like most dreams, disappeared when she awoke. During her blindness, only the most intense dreams were given voice." He paused. "Now that her vision has returned, Miss Evans has a much more crowded brain- and the once-silent manifestations of her precognition have to go somewhere, so they get spoken aloud. She should start to quiet down in another week or so, once her brain reorganizes itself."

"But she won't ever be a proper Seer again."

"No."

James sat still for a few moments, trying to organize all of this into his brain, and finally came up with a short summary. "So what you're saying is that Lily has déjà vu every day of her life."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I should think that's exactly what I'm saying. I'll remember that explanation for the next time I need to use it."

James nodded, then rose to leave. "Thank you for sorting that out with me, sir," he said sincerely, shaking out his cloak. Then something occurred to him. "Could you answer just one more question for me, please?"

"Certainly, Mr. Potter. How may I be of assistance?"

"Who would you say is the best whistler in Hogwarts?"

The absurd question didn't seem to phase the Headmaster in the slightest. "Oh, Sirius Black, I think. Hands down."

James grinned darkly as he pulled the hood up. "I'll have to agree with you."

By the time the next Hogsmeade visit was announced, James was plenty comfortable with the idea of bringing Alice Stockwell as his date. However, the fact remained that she was a seventh year Ravenclaw, and the only time he ever saw her was at Prefects' meetings or, on rare occasion, in the library. So it came to pass that, one evening in early October, James prepared himself to ask out a girl he barely knew. When Lily adjourned the Prefects' meeting, he gathered a few pages of notes on fare, decorations and a tentative schedule for the Halloween feast under one arm and approached the oldest Ravenclaw Prefect. "Alice, could I have a word with you?"

She nodded, her eyes questioning, and waited for the rest of the assembled students to disperse. When they had, she leaned back in her chair. "What is it?"

"Er… do you have any plans for the Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Oh," she said quietly, and bit her lip. "Um, I'm supposed to play a chess match against someone in the Three Broomsticks- settle a bet, sort of a thing." She flushed. "Other than that, I'm… free."

"Would you mind if I went along and cheered you on a bit?"

Alice looked a little overwhelmed at this. "You mean like a date?"

"Yes." At this point, elaboration was looking a little pointless. James squirmed a bit.

She smiled. "I'd love to. Meet me in the Three Broomsticks at two-thirty?"

"Sure," he answered, relieved. "Well… see you Saturday." They said their good-byes and went their separate ways, and James felt generally good about the whole experience.

He hoped the feeling would last until Saturday.

"I don't even _like_ pumpkin pie," James protested, sitting across the table from Lily in their small, shared study.

She raised her eyebrows, wondering if this was going to end up giving her a headache. "Really? I never would have guessed. Still, it's a Halloween staple."

"Can't we have blueberry instead?"

"Blueberries aren't in season," Lily pointed out. "I guess we could ask for apple as well, though."

"I suppose it's too much to ask for peach?" James asked, his tone hopeful. "It's my favourite."

She smiled wanly, trying very hard not to roll her eyes. He was so frustrating- for years he'd chased after her, and then just when he got her attention something scared him off. Well, that was fine with Lily. If his interest lay elsewhere, she could deal with that- she owed him a wizard's debt for saving her life, but that didn't mean she had to moon after him. "James, peaches are even more out of season than blueberries. Have some sense- even if they weren't, we'd probably have to import them."

"Oh, alright," he conceded. "What about after the feast? Are we planning anything?"

"No one else ever has. At least not as far as I can remember." She thought about it for a moment. It wasn't a bad idea, really- in fact, it would be good to get the collective student mind thinking about things other than the war. "What did you have in mind?"

"Poker tournament? Costume contest?" James suggested. "I don't really know. Something for everyone. Can we do that?"

Lily was lost in thought. "Poker's not really very festive- and a costume contest isn't very original. No offense." Finally, an idea struck her. "What if we…"

James appeared to be listening intently as she related her idea. Visions of pumpkin-throwing contests, scarecrow races and haunted hayrides danced inside Lily's head, and both of them began taking notes. They needed activities- pumpkin carving, bobbing for apples and tug-of-war (in a pit of pumpkin guts)- all were added to the list.

"What about prizes?" Lily asked, shaking out her hand.

"Don't Muggle arcades use tickets? Maybe it could 'cost' a certain number of tickets to participate in an event, and the winner would get their opponents' forfeited tickets."

"That could work," she agreed. "Then they could use their tickets to buy prizes- candied apples, pumpkin pasties, dancing skeletons and the like." At this, her stomach let out a loud rumble. James caught her eye and they both dissolved into laughter. "I guess I should have eaten dinner," Lily said ruefully, rubbing her stomach. "Bit late now, though."

James looked at her as if she'd grown an extra head. "You mean to tell me you've never sneaked into the kitchens before?"

"And you have?" she asked before she could stop herself. "What am I saying. Of course you have." Her belly gave another loud protest at the continued discussion of food-related topics. "I don't suppose you're willing to share the secret?"

"What?" He clutched at his heart in faux shock. "You mean after curfew?"

Lily glanced at the clock- it was past eleven. She shook her head in resignation. "I guess I'll have to go to bed hungry. We can't very well be caught out after hours. We're supposed to set an example."

"Don't be such a worry-wart," James chided. "Wait right here- I'll be back."

She vaguely wondered where she could get to in thirty seconds without leaving their quarters- the bathroom, possibly, if she hurried.

James returned from his bedroom with something bundled in his arms. "Voila," he said. "The secret to the Marauders' success."

Lily remained skeptical, though something about it was trying to grab her attention. "It's a great piece of ugly cloth."

"Ye of little faith. No one has ever been caught wearing this cloak."

"That's because people are afraid to touch it," she disputed as James began to shake it out. "I mean, look at it-" she stopped. James- and the ugly cloak- had disappeared.

"Some witch you are, Miss Evans," he said teasingly from behind her, his voice directly in her ear. "There's a reason it turns invisible when someone wears it."

But Lily wasn't paying attention to his voice anymore- rather her thoughts were focused inward and backward to a time several months ago when the Invisibility Cloak had proved extremely useful to her personally. The events in her memory were rather hazy.

__

Pain. Suffering. Confusion. Sudden, unexpected relief. Weak knees. Disbelief.

"You were expecting Father Christmas? Come on, I've got a Invisibility Cloak, get under and let's get out of here."

Then… then, warmth. Then nothing.

Lily swayed a little, feeling light-headed. _I don't want to remember this!_ But she had no choice in the matter; the events were coming back. She felt herself starting to fall-

Somehow, she never hit the ground. She supposed James must have caught her. It was warm- he had probably set her on the sofa by their fireplace. Inside she was cold. She remembered.

__

Screaming, pandemonium, a door being blast down. The Priams… her best friends, her first love, dying around her. Days chained to a pole in a room that became progressively darker. A hated voice- a hated touch- a slap and a grope in the dark, in the cold-

Lily's stomach heaved; she was dimly glad that she hadn't eaten any dinner. The flashback stopped and left her gasping, clinging to the arm of the sofa, trying to shut the memories away.

Someone was rubbing her back. "Lily, I'm sorry." His words sounded far away, strained. "I should have realized- come on, come back to me. I can go to the kitchens and get you something. Snap out of it."

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and managed some control. "I'm alright," she whispered, closing her eyes and laying her head down on the armrest.

"Like hell you are. You've been screaming blue murder for ten minutes."

A few more calming breaths. "How did you know what to do?" She focused on the small circles he was making on her back. _Put it away_, she urged herself. _Put it away, it can only hurt you_.

He sighed, and helped her sit up. She hadn't realized she'd been lying across his lap. "Mum said something like this might happen if you ever saw something that made you remember… what it was like. I was prepared."

__

What it was like. The touch. Lily shuddered, throwing off James' once-soothing hand. Oh- oh, what if he'd seen, what if he had been there- had there been more, more that she couldn't remember? It sickened her. She had to know. "James, when you came to get me…. Did you- did you see anything that might make you think- think maybe I was abused more than just, you know, with magic?" She couldn't look at him. She couldn't look at _herself_- if they had _touched_ her, she was filthy- she would never be clean again.

She could tell James was trying to be gentle. His voice was very soft, and very sad, and for a minute her heart stopped. "Lestrange was going to," he answered quietly. "He was going to when I got there, and I couldn't do anything, but he had to leave. Mum said- Mum said they hadn't touched you otherwise."

Lily felt tears of relief leave her eyes, but they dried as quickly as they had come. _Pull yourself together. _Her stomach growled loudly again and she looked at James- his face was frozen- before forcing a smile onto her face. She wasn't very hungry anymore, but she needed to get out and do something or she would go crazy. "Let's go. You promised me dinner."

He pulled her up off the sofa, looking at the cloak on the table as if it might bite him, but Lily marched up to it and held it out to him as bravely as she dared. Warily, he slipped it over their heads and they headed towards the kitchens.

Half an hour later, full of meat pies and chocolate cake, James and Lily stuck their heads out of the kitchens. "All clear," she pronounced, reaching a half-visible hand up, checking that the hood was still in place. "Ready?"

"Let's go," he agreed. They stepped out into the hall and began the journey back to the Head Student dormitory.

They passed three suits of armor, the portrait of the dogs playing cards, and the entrance to the Ravenclaw dormitory. Seeing it must have jogged Lily's memory, because she asked, "How did your date with Alice Stockwell go, by the way? It was almost two weeks ago- I forgot all about it."

James winced inwardly. His date with Alice had been a little boring- she tended to adhere to rules very strictly, preferring chess to more social activities. They'd run into Lily in a pawnshop in Hogsmeade, which had been nothing if not awkward, though it hadn't deterred them from seeing each other. Their relationship hadn't lasted. _When you're kissing me it feels like you'd rather be somewhere else_, she'd told him. _With someone else._ And since she was partly right, and because he sensed the same thing about her, he hadn't argued. Finally he answered, "It went okay. We've gone our separate ways, though." He had to smile at the irony of the situation. "I think she fancies Frank Longbottom."

"That's nice," Lily said, stumbling a bit over a stair. James grabbed her about the waist to steady her. "They'd make a good couple."

Suddenly, the staircase gave a groan and started swinging around. "Bollocks," mumbled Lily around a yawn. "I was really looking forward to a nice, comfortable bed."

James resisted the urge to copy her action. "I know what you mean. Between you, Quidditch and Potions labs with Sylvia, I could really use the rest."

The staircase shuddered to a halt and they quickly clambered up the last few steps. "Any idea where we are?"

James glanced about furtively. "I think we're on the other side of the library. Near the Hufflepuff wing, maybe."

"So that means we need to go… left?"

"Left," he confirmed, falling into step behind her again.

All was quiet for another few minutes, but just when James thought they were home free, he heard the pitter-patter of feline footsteps down the corridor.

In front of him, Lily froze. Above their steady, synchronized breathing, James could hear other, heavier footsteps. "What is it, my sweet?"

James leaned over as far as he dared and whispered very quietly, "Tapestry down the hall to your right. Step with your left foot. Now right. Now left…"

Painstakingly, they made it to the tapestry. "There's no way out," he told her quietly. "And no room to move around once we're in there- so the tapestry absolutely cannot move."

Lily nodded, and he felt her wriggling a bit to get her wand in her hand. Very quietly, she placed a Freezing Charm on the wall hanging.

Filch was only a few feet behind them now, and Mrs. Norris' nose was working quickly. Holding his breath, James followed Lily into the recess.

It was more cramped than he remembered from previous escapes, and he realized that that was because the last time he'd been cornered like this, he'd been thirteen and had a much scrawnier version of Sirius with him. There was barely enough room for the two of them- his back was only an inch or so from the wall, and Lily's nose was in the same predicament. They stayed that way, hardly daring to feel relieved, for an indeterminate period of time. Then James realized that his palms, settled securely around Lily's waist, were itching to move, and not to places he particularly wanted them to go. He shoved them in his pockets.

Lily must have taken this as a sign that it was okay to squirm about a bit, because she did so, somehow managing to turn her back to the wall with a minimum of physical injury to both parties. She cast a Silencing Charm. "This is cozy," she murmured, raising her eyebrows at him. "How'd you happen upon this place?"

"Oddly, nicking food with Sirius. Don't look like that, I know what you're thinking, and first of all, you're way off base. Second of all, ew. And lastly, we were thirteen."

"Bit defensive, aren't you," said Lily, with a grin he could hear.

James poked out his tongue at her. "Look, just because Remus and Sirius have chosen the path of wickedness doesn't mean I have!" And the reality of the fact that he'd just outed two of his best friends hit him over the head. "Oops."

There was a soft snicker in the dark. "Luckily for you, Sirius has already confessed that particular sin."

"And Remus?"

Silence. Then, "I'll put ten Sickles on Sirius cracking before Frank Longbottom does."

"No deal. Sirius has less patience than… than a very impatient thing," James improvised. Right then, he was rather too close to breaking, himself: it was getting awfully warm in their little alcove. There was precious little space between them, and it was supercharged with the intensity of her presence. Her hair was tickling his chin, and it took all of his willpower not to give in and bury his face in it. "Sometimes I think you know more about my friends than I do."

"Hey! They're my friends, too," she said playfully, then gave him a gentle shove.

James hit his head on the brick and lost his balance- his feet slipped out from under him, but in the tiny alcove they tangled with Lily's. He landed half-supported by the wall behind him, half by his feet braced against the opposite wall, with Lily flushed and breathless between his legs. So, partly addled by the blow to his head and more than a little distracted by her face centimeters from his own, he did what any sensible male would do: he leaned forward, raised a hand to her cheek…

"You've got a spot of chocolate right here," he whispered, moving his thumb over the offending blemish. Then he kissed her.

Her lips were moist and unresisting, and he swore that she was melting against him, making him whole, filling in the missing pieces. Her arms rested on his chest, her scent in his nose, her teeth nipping softly at his lower lip. Lily filled his senses, but he found his concentration focused elsewhere: his only thought was that something this perfect could only be right.

Of course, Lily would have to pull away and ruin it. James was in such a state of shock at himself at this point that he might have gone along with anything anyone asked of him, but he would immediately regret agreeing with what she proposed next. "Oops. I, um, forgot we were in an enclosed space. Sorry about the whole, the whole pushing and falling and kissing thing."

He felt for a minute that all of the life had been squeezed out of him, but if she was sorry, he had better be, too. "Right," he said, speaking around the fog in his brain and the lump in his throat. "Forget it. Let's get back to the dorm."

When he saw her at breakfast the next day, he merely asked her to pass the toast.

The three-quarter moon had risen in the enchanted ceiling by the time James and the rest of the stragglers filed into the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. Like the other 'support staff' for the evening's activities, he wore his everyday robes over his costume of choice. Each prefect pair had been assigned a different task, though on a rotational basis- the Ravenclaw seventh years and Remus, along with a few teachers, were on security detail, the Slytherin fifth-years were running the pumpkin-tossing contest. The sixth years had divided the scarecrow races, bobbing for apples, prize claiming and tug-of-war between them, and the remainder of the prefects were judging the carving contest. James and Lily had taken the responsibility of hosts of the haunted hayride, which took the students on a tour of "Dracula's castle."

He took a seat between Remus and Peter and grinned across the table at Sirius. "You must be about bursting with curiosity."

Sirius did, in fact, look like he might burst. He was bouncing up and down in his seat and giving Remus his best puppy-dog expression. "_Please_ give me a hint!"

James took a bite of roast to hide the grin on his face, wondering how Remus kept from caving in. Glancing about the hall, though, it faded to a frown. Lily Evans had just walked in the room, talking animatedly with Severus Snape. He knew that Snape was her partner for their NEWT Potions class- James had been paired with Sylvia Peters- but he couldn't subdue the flash of jealousy. He'd been doing his best not to think about her since their unexpected kiss in the hallway, but he was failing miserably. He couldn't help but think that what he really needed was a good distraction. Reluctantly, he let it go and turned his attention momentarily back to his friends.

"Padfoot, even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn't. Lily devised a magical contract and made us sign it."

Sirius pouted. "Not even a _little _hint?"

Rolling his eyes a bit, James tuned them out. At the High Table, he could see that Dumbledore had taken to the occasion by dressing as a large tree, complete with a bird's nest in his long beard. Every now and again a bird would poke its head out and fly about the hall before returning to its hiding spot. He amused himself by contemplating the pandemonium if one of the birds could be convinced to unload on Snape's head.

As the feast drew to a close, the Headmaster stood and clapped his hands a few times; plates disappeared and his costume faded away, leaving him in lurid purple robes with orbiting planets. "If I could have your attention, please!"

There was absolute silence in the hall as the student body awaited his address. "Some of you may have noticed that this year's feast began an hour earlier than normal. This is because of a special treat your Head Students have prepared for you." James met Lily's eye from down the table (he convinced himself that his heart wasn't thudding loudly) and they both stood. "Miss Evans, Mr. Potter, I believe you and your staff have some last-minute preparations to see to. I will explain the rules to the rest of the students."

James was acutely aware of the attention of the students in the hall as he hurried out of the school. He waited for Lily on the steps by their enchanted 'buggy', which was in reality a large wooden box on wheels filled with bales of hay for somewhat more comfortable seating. In case of rain it could be covered quickly- Lily had jokingly called it a convertible. "Did you bring the makeup?" he asked as she hurried towards him, a small case under her arm.

Lily nodded and threw it towards him, throwing off her robes as she hurried to get ready. James' jaw nearly dropped in awe. Her costume for the evening's events was a low-cut peasant's dress that showed far more cleavage than she'd ever displayed before. He looked away quickly, feeling his face heat up, and removed his own robes.

Hearing a giggle, he turned towards her again. "You did not just have a cape like that lying around," she said with a grin.

He turned up his high red-silk collar and swirled the cape about him as flamboyantly as possible. "I had Mum do some shopping. Likewise about that dress- unless you've been holding out on me?" He winked.

She poked out her tongue. "Like it, do you? Mum and Dad went to the continent a few years ago on their second honeymoon and Mum decided she just _had_ to have one of these. She's never worn it." Lily looked down at herself in what he guessed was a self-conscious fashion, a wry smile on her face. "Can't imagine why."

"Do you really think the lipstick is necessary?" he asked, opening her case and peering inside.

"Vampires have very dark lips. Everyone knows that."

"But I'm a boy," James whined, pouting. "Come on, I agreed to the blood and the cape and the weird suit thing and even the slicked-back hair… I feel like Snape. Do I really need to have the lips, too?"

"And vampire teeth," Lily reminded him mischievously, holding up a set of self-adhesive fake teeth so that he could bite into them. "You don't need help with the lipstick, do you? You know, liner and such might be very fetching on you."

James glowered, opening and closing his mouth a few times for practice, getting into character. "I'll remember zat if I ever decide I like boys." Reluctantly, he smeared the red paint on his lips. "Vot about you? Need some help?"

Lily was flipping through the small booklet she'd put in the case. "No, no. I'm just going to do a Fading Charm- that should make me seem victim-esque. But you'll have to help me with the blood-pop part- I've never used them like that before."

Taking two blood pops from his pocket, James conjured a small cup and some water, then swirled the candy into it, causing them to dissolve. In another minute he had a thick, red liquid ready, most of which he didn't really need. He dribbled a bit on his chin for effect before turning to Lily. "Tip your head sideways," he instructed her, leaning in close and trying not to let her nearness distract him. Under the Fading Charm, she was as pale as a ghost, skin almost gray beneath his fingers as he made two clear "bite marks" on her neck, dribbling some more of the solution down to her collarbone. He tapped his wand against her skin to perform a Concealment Charm- those marks shouldn't be visible until later. It was hard not to linger- she was so soft…

"Done," he admitted reluctantly, opening the coffin that lay near the front of the wagon. "You're all set to be my mindless mistress. I mean, assistant."

Lily shoved him back into the hay. "You wish."

"No, I like you much better with spirit," he said dryly, hiding his sincerity and trying to shake the debris from his hair. He imagined it must look very un-vampire-like. "Um, are the Thestrals harnessed properly and whatnot?" He wished Lily was still unable to see them.

She hopped off the side of the wagon and wandered around to the front. "They're alright. Anxious to go, though."

"Good. Me, too." James flicked his wand at the ground outside the wagon and a rotting wooden sign sprung out of the ground:

HAUNTED HAYRIDE

__

Take a tour of Dracula's haunted castle grounds, led by Duchess Fritzi von Lichtenstein.

COST: 2 TICKETS

He tucked his wand back into its sleeve holster and stepped over to the coffin. "Guess I'd better disappear before my loyal fans see me," he said cheekily, laying down in the box. "Make sure nobody steps on me, would you?"

"Off course," Lily replied, stroking the side of the coffin in a vacant way. "Rest vell." Then it was dark.

Lightly, Lily hopped down from the bed of the wagon. The sun was low on the horizon- the perfect time to start Halloween events- and all of the booths and games had been set up, waiting for the influx of students from the Great Hall to don their cloaks. She conjured a small ticket box next to the sign, adding a tricky little spell that would turn the left hand of those who put in their tickets blue for the duration of the hayride. With just a few moments before sunset, and thus the start of the festival, she took two black blankets from the back of the wagon and draped them over the Thestrals so that no one would walk into them.

When the sun sank into the west, the doors burst open and the grounds filled with students: eager first, second and third years followed more slowly by somewhat skeptical-looking older students. Lily noticed Gryffindor's fourth-year Beaters dragging their respective girlfriends towards the pumpkin-guts tug-of-war. She winced sympathetically at the thought of being covered in wet pumpkinseeds all night, then realized that a simple Cleaning Charm should sort them out.

She was still staring off at the two couples when she felt a tug on her wrist. A first-year with a completely blue hand said, "I can't reach."

Lily blinked, then realized that even she needed a bit of a running start to get up on the tall hayride. "Vell, ve can't haff zat." She waved her wand and transfigured the side of the wagon into a rickety-looking stepladder. "Vatch your step."

Before she knew it, the seats were all filled save for her own at the front, so she tacked a piece of parchment to James' sign:

__

Out for a ride. Back at 7:45. - Fritzi

She still thought Fritzi was a ridiculous name, but she'd made James wear makeup, so she supposed it was a small concession on her part. "_Finite Incantatem_," she said, pointing her wand at the wagon. The side panel sprung back into shape and she hoisted herself over it into the hay.

Most of her passengers were first or second years, but there were others scattered here and there, notably Alice Stockwell, who must have had the first shift break, and Frank Longbottom, who looked very cozy together. Lily cast a Sonorous Charm. "_Guten Tag, meine Dame und Herren!_ If I could see your hands, please?"

There was some confusion at first, and then everyone held up a blue appendage. "Thank you. I am Duchess von Lichtenstein-" she couldn't bring herself to say Fritzi- "and I vill be your hostess this evenink. Ve must be very careful, because alzough Dracula has not been outside his castle in years, he always is strongest on All Hallow's Eve, and a vampire knows his territory vell. So, I must ask you to be very quiet vhen I tell you to."

She turned to the Thestrals and gathered the reins, setting them in motion. They knew the path well- it had been rehearsed, and could sense the wards that guarded it. She and James had spent much of the previous week awkwardly copy-pasting: they had duplicated a section of the Forbidden Forest's vegetation for the purpose of having the spookiness without the danger. The Thestrals pulled them toward that stretch of forest, and Lily saw a couple of the first years glance fearfully at each other.

"Ze lord of this castle has rigid control of his grounds. Few dare to come here without his permission." As the last of the sunlight vanished, tiny lamps set at the four corners of the wagon began to glow. "Even the verevolves are loyal to him."

"Werewolves?" said a skeptical second-year. "Yeah, right."

Exactly on cue, a haunting howl rose to their left. Lily kept her face serious. "Verevolves," she repeated.

The ride wore on and Lily managed to keep her audience on the edge of interested, if not quite scared. There were quite a few volunteers involved in parts of the haunted hayride- mostly seventh-year volunteers who could be trusted not to spill the beans to anyone.

The tour was nearing its completion after highly inventive stories about the gamekeeper's hut, disappearances in the woods, and the few failed vampire hunts undertaken by the oppressed people of the village. Lily could see that they were nearing the end of this section of forest and stood again to start her history of Dracula's castle. As they passed out into the open sky, they triggered a spell that caused lightning to fork in the sky. There was an ominous creak from somewhere inside the wagon. The little lamps sputtered and faded.

Three seconds later, when lightning flashed in the sky again, Lily let her head fall to the side. James was behind her, his false teeth on her neck, his wand in her back removing the Concealing Charm they'd placed on the blood lollipop solution. She did her best to fight the blush she could feel coming and merely moaned in what she hoped was an appropriate fashion.

To her immense satisfaction, there was a lot of collective screaming. Lily let herself fall to the floor.

James raised his hand and the light from the lamps grew again; most were too distracted by this display to notice Lily pointing her wand at them and muttering spells. "Velcome," said James, "to my humble abode."

The whole of the evening went off surprisingly well, Lily reflected after the last hayride was done two hours later. She still had about a half an hour left to explore the festival before everything was packed up and put away, so she cleaned off the blood lollipop as best she could and unharnessed the Thestrals.

There was loud whooping and cheering coming from the scarecrow races, so Lily headed off in that direction. Two teams- one Ravenclaw and one Hufflepuff- were furiously stuffing straw into a pair of overalls. Currently Hufflepuff were winning- they were already unfolding and stuffing red flannel shirt. This, too, got filled with straw before the head- a mid-sized pumpkin with a lopsided grin- could be attached. Then the whole thing was animated with magic and sent on a sort of obstacle course.

Though they had a bit of difficulty with the animation spell, _Corpus animei_, the Hufflepuffs were far enough ahead that it didn't matter. Their scarecrow hopped through the Muggle tyres almost gracefully before practically falling across the finish line, the animation having worn off.

Lily had just turned away from the scarecrow races when she felt something touch her shoulder. Looking up, she was surprised to see the Headmaster's phoenix perched on her shoulder.

"Hullo," she said warmly, reaching up to stroke his head. "I don't suppose you've come to join in the fun?"

Her question was answered when she encountered the note the bird was carrying.

__

Dear Miss Evans,

Please make your way up to my office at your earliest convenience. The password is 'blood pops.'

-Albus Dumbledore

Lily sighed. "I guess I won't get to enjoy the fair, after all," she commented to Fawkes, heading towards the castle. Despite her flippant tone, she couldn't help but think that something must have gone horribly wrong.

She was not amiss in her assumption, that much she could tell by the atmosphere in the Headmaster's office. The shades were drawn and the window shut, excluding any interference from the fair. Dumbledore himself looked very grave, and she paused for a moment on the threshold before he motioned her inside.

"Miss Evans, please have a seat."

She did so, squirming a little. Dumbledore didn't seem to be in any hurry, but that could mean a number of things.

After a length of time in which he sat and regarded her sadly, he spoke. "Miss Evans, words will always fail me in these situations, no matter how often I find myself in them, so I hope you will forgive me for speaking plainly."

Lily felt a chill run through her. "Sir?"

"Your parents have been tortured with magic, Miss Evans."

Sheer shock kept her from any immediate emotional response. Her parents, tortured? Absurd. They had no contact with the magical world, aside from her.

Her overwhelmed mind knew that that could only mean one thing, and she shied away from it. Shakily she managed, "Are… are they going to be okay?"

"They have been taken to St. Mungo's. Your mother is in stable condition- she is expected to make a full recovery." Dumbledore let out a deep sigh. "Your father is not so lucky."

__

He said 'is,' she told herself, clinging to whatever faint hope he offered. "How-" she was startled to find that she had to speak past a lump in her throat. "How is he?"

"He is not expected to live past the end of the month. You have my deepest condolences."

Though Dumbledore spoke gently, Lily finally felt the impact of his words. She slumped in her seat, her limbs not heeding her commands to cease trembling. Her father was going to die. He had loved her and supported her and been there for her for her whole life, and the one time he had needed her, she hadn't been there. She suddenly needed to see him more than anything else in the world.

She looked up at him at last, wondering for a moment why he'd gone blurry, and then realized that she had tears in her eyes that had yet to be shed. "I need to see him," she whispered.

The Headmaster nodded gravely. "Of course. I will have a Portkey ready for you first thing in the morning." He paused. "Would you like me to have someone escort you back to your dormitory?"

She shook her head. She felt a desperate, irrational need to talk to James- but she didn't want him to meet her like this. It could wait until she got back to their rooms. "No, thank you, sir. I think I just want to be alone for a little while."

"Of course."

It was the longest walk of her life. She barely had the presence of mind to remember to give the password to the suit of armor.

James' bedroom door was shut, but Lily supposed that she'd intruded on him enough times during the summer that he probably wasn't going to mind if she woke him, especially considering the circumstances. It wasn't so much that she wanted someone to talk to, but that she felt if she didn't tell James specifically she would burst.

So she pushed open the door as quietly as she could, noticing belatedly that the light was on.

When she finally realized what she was seeing, Lily closed the door and backed away as quickly as possible, one hand covering her mouth. For the second time in an hour, her heart seemed to constrict. She shut her eyes to keep the image out but it was burned onto her retinas; she retreated to her room and flung herself onto her bed, resigned. Before the first tear fell she had already promised herself that it was time to put her crush further behind her; James had quite obviously done just that- Sylvia Peters proved it.

It was lunchtime the next day before James found out why Lily hadn't been to class; the note tacked on to her door explained everything in tones just cold enough that he knew she'd withdrawn from him again. A week after Lily's return, he started seeing her less- just before bed and at Prefect meetings. He pretended not to notice- between studying for his NEWTs and snogging Syl, he oughtn't have had time to notice Lily avoiding him at all. But he did. A week after that, he stopped leaving his door open at night. He was certain Lily wouldn't come to him now even if she needed him.

That had been two weeks ago. They'd had two Prefect meetings in that time, and he and Syl had had three separate rows over Lily. She was too nosy. She flirted with him. She said nasty things about Syl to Marianne and Alice. James was frankly tired of it, especially considering he only spent about three hours a week with Lily.

If he'd had less restraint, he would have mouthed her words along with Sylvia- he'd heard them enough times. "I don't understand why you hang out with her. She's no fun."

"Look, Syl, give her a break. She's been specifically targeted by Voldemort, for God's sake." He didn't even have to devote any attention to what he was saying, he had said it so many times.

"I don't like the way she looks at me," Syl complained. That was a new one. "Like she thinks I'm some kind of filth."

"She does not," James protested. "She's a nice girl. Really."

Sylvia pouted, filled her eyes with crocodile tears and crossed her arms. "Sure. Take her side. Everyone knows I'm a slut anyway, right?"

James was about ready to wring her neck, but he bit his tongue. "Nobody thinks you're a slut, Syl," he lied. "Lily is just a little hard to get along with sometimes." That was either an understatement or a lie; James didn't know which.

"Well, you hang around with her enough."

"Lily is one of my friends. Besides, she's Head Girl. We share a bathroom, for crying out loud! There's not much I can do about it."

All he got for his argument was another ridiculous pout. "I don't like her. Besides, she hangs out with Severus Snape. You _hate_ Snape."

This was a new low for her, James thought, and even though he knew she had mentioned it on purpose to rile him, he was getting angry. "He's her _Potions partner_, Sylvia. Just like I'm yours, only without the alleged benefits."

She ignored his snide comment. "I want you to stop being friends with her."

He almost swallowed his tongue. "What are you, five?" he asked before he could stop himself. "I hardly ever see her and we live together! Are you so insecure that you can't deal with that?"

"I'm your girlfriend and people are talking!" she protested. "Don't you even care-"

"No," he interrupted. "I don't care. I've had enough, Syl. It's over between us." The words took a seemingly huge weight off of his chest. "Can we get back to the Potions assignment now?"

Syl was looking at him in astonishment. "Can we talk about this?"

"No. I've let you push me around long enough. Forget the assignment; I'll do it myself." He stalked off down the corridor.

She made him so _angry_! He'd known from the beginning that she had no real interest in him as a person- she knew nothing about him aside from the fact that he was rich and popular, but that had been enough for her to deem him a "logical" match.

Further, he had to admit that some of his anger at her comments was because they were untrue- and he wished sorely that they were. He missed Lily's company, and trying to cover up her absence with Sylvia just made the difference that much more acute.

He stopped outside the library and leaned against the wall to get control of himself. When Lily got in from her study group tonight he'd tie her up if he had to in order to make her to talk to him properly again.

He was about ready to head back to his room when he heard voices around the corner. He hadn't _meant_ to overhear, but there were certain words that could not be said in his earshot without his brain automatically paying attention, and the name _Evans_ was one of them.

"He said the bloke cried like a baby. Real dignified." A snort. James stilled, unsure if his blood was freezing or boiling. "It's a wonder they didn't have to massacre half the filthy street. The broad, though, she was real quiet 'til they started going on about that Mudblood daughter of theirs- _then_ she really got on her knees, you know. I guess that's the only reason she escaped with her sanity."

Filthy, derisive laughter. "No pride. Did Malfoy tell you anything else?"

"No, he had to head out on some Ministry business. Where's Snape, anyway? He'd better be here soon if he knows what's good for him."

James had heard enough. He came around the corner already swinging, landing a trio of blows with fists and elbows before any of the three Slytherins knew what was going on. His glasses fell off, or were broken; he couldn't see them but it didn't matter because he could smell them and hear them and feel them, and they were the reason that Lily had missed a week of classes and barely got out of bed and never spoke to him anymore and went around looking like life had no meaning. His anger gathered in his arms and his knees and his chest and he lashed out again and again, hardly feeling it when he was struck in return. Then someone was holding his arms and someone was pulling a knife and there was a terrible voice, two terrible voices, both repeating the same words-

"_Petrificus totalus!_" and they were all still, and he was still, until he could move his eyes enough to see, blearily, two people he never liked to see together.

Lily's expression was livid and he she looked as if she was nearly bursting with anger. "I thought you told me you had grown up," she said, and he didn't know whether he felt the way he did because she was angry and disappointed or because she hadn't even given him a chance. She cast the counter-curse and threw his glasses at him; he only just managed to catch them in his shock.

Beside her Snape simply looked down and sneered, then removed the spell from his classmates. "Put that away if you don't want to be expelled. Have you all got your books?"

"Lily, you don't understand- they were talking about- they were- they called you-"

"Expelled? He's the one who attacked us-"

"Oh, I'm sure they started it. Why do you always have to let your temper get the best of you?"

"And I'm sure everyone will see your side of the story once you explain why the knife was necessary, Nott," Snape put in smoothly. James' face flamed uncontrollably- he didn't need this would-be Death Eater to defend him- "Now get to the library before someone asks you what's going on and decides to back up the questions with some Veritaserum."

"If you would just let me explain-"

But Lily cut him off, watching Severus as the rest of the Slytherins beat a hasty retreat. "Go back to the dormitory- I'll deal with you later." With no other option presenting itself, he turned and did as he was told.

If he had been able to see himself, he would have noted that he looked almost as terrible as he felt. His face was pale and blotchy, his hair was flat on one side from where he'd buried it under his pillow, and his eyes were red behind crooked glasses. One of them was badly bruised, dried blood from his nose was smeared across his cheek, and his knuckles were raw and swollen. He waited for her later that evening in their study, not really taking in much of anything. When Lily strode in, mouth set in a firm line and shoulders rigid, he realized that he was exhausted. He wanted to give up.

"James Potter," she said grimly, "I absolutely cannot believe you. What did you think you were doing? You're lucky Severus said they didn't want to involve the Heads or even the board of governors- you could have been expelled-"

What was he supposed to tell her? 'Lucky I didn't get tortured like your parents?' He looked down, Syl's words from earlier that day coming unbidden to his memory. In the uncertainty, old habit took over. "So it's Severus now, is it?" he asked, a bit nastier than he'd intended. The look of injured fury on her face elicited a perverse mixture of sadistic pleasure and shame.

"As if it were a concern of yours!" she retorted haughtily. "Severus isn't who you think he is, and for that you should be grateful!"

__

Grateful! James thought. _I saved his_ _life! _But he'd never told Lily that and this probably wasn't the time to bring it up. "He's not good for you- not good enough _for_ you! I'm telling you, Lily, the guy is slime!" _And he's the only reason I was stopped from hexing your parents' would-be killers into oblivion._

Lily's fists clenched. "Slime! What do you care? You've no right to go on about who I may or may not see- we've had _one kiss_, James Potter, one! As if you have the right to call _him_ slime- he's just my lab partner, he hasn't asked me to marry him! Since September there has been a steady parade of girls past your bedroom door! Slime, indeed!"

"Those girls meant nothing to me!" James shouted. "Nothing, do you hear? And if they did, what's it to you? _One kiss_, Lily, like you said."

"What's it to me?" She spun to face him, red-faced. "Before school started you were all I had and now I can't even get a word in at breakfast! I haven't seen you in almost two weeks and we bloody share a bathroom!" A tear ran unnoticed down her nose and dripped silently onto the floor. James' stomach churned unpleasantly. Her parents had been tortured almost to the point of insanity and he hadn't been there for her. "I thought we were friends, but you've been avoiding me for a month! You won't look me in the eye and I can't even keep up with the girls you're dating and _I miss you_, alright! I want my friend back!"

"I've never gone anywhere!" he spat. "I just took a step back. What else could I do, Lily? In September you started treating me like a piece of meat to be devoured! You weren't _stable_! And then you decided you bloody wanted Snape! And I'm not the only one who's been making myself scarce around here! What was I supposed to do? Of course I've been pushing you away- I was trying to save our friendship!"

"Oh, how _noble_." Lily speared him with a glare. "I won't get into the subject of my _lab partner_ again, James, but I will save you some trouble. As of this minute, you and I are no longer friends." She attempted to stalk off, but James yelled after her.

"Don't you dare walk out on me!"

Lily rounded on him again. "Why bloody not?" And paused, maybe noticing the train wreck, and the kicked-puppy look, both wretched and mixed with something so dirty and vulgar and twisted, so warped, that maybe it made her stomach lurch, but the moment passed and she pushed sadistically onward. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't leave right now and never speak to you again."

"Because I'm in love with you!" he shouted, hating the words for leaving his mouth instead of sticking in his throat. He was too ashamed to look at her and even if he had, he was too angry to see her properly. It took no time at all for the lies he'd so painstakingly built to come tumbling down around him, and then he was left with only painful silence and bitter truth. James stood his ground for an awful moment, not thinking or seeing or feeling, and then his brain caught up with his mouth and he slammed the door of his bedroom closed behind him, leaning wearily against it. He knew then that he was breaking, that he had broken, and that nothing would ever be the same.


	4. Out

Fade IV

Author's notes: _Fade_ is my baby, and I've been reluctant to finish it for that reason, so I apologize for the delay. It was made possible by the support of the following people: Zsenya, for her editing and consultation skills; Caitlyn, for listening to me whine about James; Hallie and Brandon, my faithful test-readers; and my mom, for making sure I didn't fail out of university in the interim. Special mention goes to Gabriella and noahdia, who may or may not be the same person, for nagging me until I finally finished.

Standard disclaimers apply.

Out

James woke up the morning after the holidays started feeling like he ought to go back to bed, but it was freezing cold and he couldn't sleep any longer, so he got up.

The minute his feet touched the floor, he jumped back under the covers. The floor was like _ice_! He cast about for his slippers for a moment before grabbing his wand and Summoning them from the other side of the room. Why the hell was it so cold?

James shuffled out the door, closing it behind him when he saw the mess in the small study. Almost everything in the room was covered in white- somehow the snow had found its way inside. He stared dumbly for a minute before tracing its origins with his eyes. Lily's door was open, and there seemed to be a good deal more snow on the floor in her room, so it was a good bet that that was where it was coming from.

Wading through ankle-deep snow at ten in the morning was not James' favourite thing. When he finally got to her open window, the obvious source of both the snow (which was coming in almost horizontally) and the cold, it took most of his strength to slam it closed against the wind.

James took a minute to Vanish the snow before removing his slippers again to cast a Warming Charm on his toes. "Couldn't even close the bloody window before she left," he muttered, using magic to dry the rug. There were papers scattered all over, several of them smudged beyond legibility from the snow. "That's what you get," he said, gathering them up and depositing them on Lily's desk. Without really meaning to, he started scanning the top paper.

_30 November, 1977_

_Lily,_

_It happened last night in his sleep. He isn't in pain anymore, honey. We have to be thankful for small blessings._

_Petunia's fiancé has suggested putting the house up for sale. I know you won't like it, sweetheart, but I can't afford it without your father and anyway, you and Pet will be moving out soon._

_The funeral is on the tenth. I've already made the arrangements with the Headmaster to get you home early._

_Love,_

_Mum_

James put the letter down, feeling like the worst sort of arse. He remembered when Lily had received it- she had been in the study, writing one essay or another, and he'd been hiding in his room with the door open only a tiny crack. When she'd opened the window to admit her owl, Artemis, the pressure change had opened the door to his room, as well. He'd seen her face go white, and she'd knocked over her inkwell, but she hadn't noticed.

He'd cursed himself multiple times for his outburst earlier that month, but that moment had been a new emotional low.

Lily and most of the rest of the school had left yesterday on the train, leaving James, Sirius, Remus and a handful of others to partake in the holiday gloom of Hogwarts all by themselves. Ordinarily it didn't get to them so much, but this year it was oppressive- this year, the reason there were students staying at Hogwarts was that it wasn't safe at home. The reason most of the students had gone home for the holiday was that it wasn't safe _anywhere_.

James sighed and wandered back to his bedroom, pulling two robes on over his pajamas and still shivering.

He only made it halfway to breakfast before his father's owl found him. "Hullo, Mio," he said fondly as the odd bird alighted on his arm. "They're lonely already, are they?" He unrolled the parchment tied to his leg.

_James,_

_Meet me in Dumbledore's office today at eleven._

_Dad_

James frowned. His father and Dumbledore had not been on the best of terms since that summer's Order of the Phoenix fiasco, after which James had been treated as a child and Dumbledore had been unfairly blamed for his involvement. The whole conversation- and his parents' insistence that he be excluded from it- still gave him a headache when he cared to think of it.

Something terrible had happened if Henry Potter was willing to be in the same room with Albus Dumbledore.

There was nothing he could do for it except show up when the note asked him to, and hope the two older men didn't rip each other apart before he got there. Few people had seen the wrath of Albus Dumbledore and lived to tell of it, and James had the sneaking suspicion that his father was one of them.

At five to eleven he stood in front of the gargoyle's staircase. "Sugarplums."

He didn't hear any curses as he went up the steps, but he didn't know if that was a relief or something that he should worry about.

He worried. The second he stepped into the office and saw his father's slouch, he worried. When his father didn't turn to look at him right away, he worried. Dumbledore's grave expression gave him further cause for panic. He sank into the chair next to his father and looked up at the Headmaster. When he found words to speak, the flat tone of his voice surprised him. "Mum's dead, isn't she."

His father's shoulders shook a little, and he finally turned to regard his son. James didn't flinch at the bloodshot eyes, the unshaven face, the lines that had appeared in only a few months. "There was an attack on St. Mungo's," he said, as if that explained everything.

It explained enough. "I'll go pack my things."

Earlier in the year, when James had appeared back home after rescuing Lily Evans from mortal peril, there had been a good deal of conflict between him and his father regarding James' involvement in the Order of the Phoenix. Henry Potter had been adamant: James was too young, too inexperienced, too reckless; the Order was too new, too dangerous, too serious. James' reply had been laced with equal parts stubborn duty and righteous anger; he was old enough, strong enough, and smart enough, and if his generation didn't show any support for the right side in the war then the Order of the Phoenix might just as well surrender right now.

It had been a trying summer.

This time, when James arrived at home, there was no longer any controversy between them regarding the Order. He felt a little guilty- more than a little, if he were honest with himself; if something happened to him it would leave Henry Potter with no one. But his father understood the need to make a difference now more than ever.

The house, despite the abundance of decoration and cheerful fairy lights, didn't feel right. James sat and stared blankly into the fire.

Neither father nor son wanted dinner; neither of them was feeling up to it.

Who would attack sick people? James wondered, but in his head he already knew that it wasn't the sick who had been attacked. The Healers had had to make a choice between staying and defending their patients and running for safety. Voldemort's Death Eaters had drawn a line in the sand- between those who were brave enough to oppose the dark and those who would rather not take sides. It was an important division, and James suspected that it would only become more so. It wasn't those that were sick now that would suffer; ultimately, it would be those who dared defy Voldemort in the future and were injured doing so that would pay the price.

The first real battle was over, and the wrong side had won.

They'd only just got home from the funeral when Dumbledore appeared in the front hall, still dressed in his funeral blacks. He had the grace to look abashed, if only for a second, before he said, "Henry, I'm afraid I need to borrow your son for a day or so."

James, who had been halfway through removing his heavy winter cloak when Dumbledore had begun speaking, took a step backwards and half-stumbled on it, looking askance at his father.

The elder Potter looked as uncomfortable as James felt. He didn't want his father to worry about him, especially after what had just happened to his mother--

"There is no one else who can go?" James' father asked tiredly.

Dumbledore shook his head. "None so qualified. I promise you, Henry, I will not send him knowingly into a fight with so little experience. It is a matter of babysitting, of making sure someone doesn't do anything regrettable."

Henry nodded and clapped James on the shoulder before pulling him into a reluctant hug. "Be safe," he whispered, and James watched him walk from the room, dumbstruck.

Finally, he turned his attention back to his mentor. "It's Lily again, isn't it, sir?" he asked, feeling a little bit sick to his stomach.

"Someone has tripped the wards we put up around the Evans house, yes. The guard we had posted saw her slip into the woods behind the house, so we're fairly certain she's safe. What you need to do is find her, make sure she doesn't try to go back, make sure she's not followed. Take her into Ottery St. Catchpole- it's a long walk, but the Death Eaters probably won't think of it. There is an inn there called the King William- someone from the Order will meet you there tomorrow morning. Do you understand?"

James, feeling a little overwhelmed, could only nod.

Dumbledore pressed a few items into his hand- a map, a Muggle-style wallet filled with pound notes, a folded piece of paper. "Those are your further instructions. Burn them after you've read them. And good luck."

"Will I need to Apparate?"

"As I understand it, Miss Evans has not yet had a chance to have her examination. The map is a Port-key; it should activate shortly. Keep safe, Mr. Potter."

He took a deep breath. "I will." He felt the familiar jerk behind his navel, and the house disappeared.

Finding himself in a secluded wood, James scanned with all his senses for any sign of another human. He appeared to be alone, so he took out the note from Dumbledore.

_Nine a.m. sharp. Your contact will be wearing blue robes and drinking orange juice. Don't use any vocalized magic, they have ways of detecting it._

Below that were a few lines of dialogue; the brown set was his, the blue, his contact's. He memorized them quickly before concentrating and burning the note in his hand. Then, tucking the map and wallet into his robes, he closed his eyes and changed.

Everything came back into view, half-divided at the front, and he took a moment to recover from his disorientation. Then, turning the gigantic stag's head from side to side, he sniffed. Nothing.

He sniffed again. His nose was nowhere near as sophisticated as Padfoot's, but even a stag could smell a human in a forest. He followed the scent as best as he could- he couldn't hear anything at all. At least Lily knew enough to be quiet.

Too intent on his objective, James skirted the edge of a clearing. _Damned stag's eyes are good for nothing_, he thought to himself, wondering if his Animagus form could use glasses. He turned his head a bit to get a better view, and reluctantly took another two steps into the clearing.

A startled gasp off to his left nearly scared the stag's senses into flight, but James managed to keep his other mind from taking off with the body. When he focused his eyes, he was not surprised to see Lily a mere ten feet away. _Bugger all, she wasn't supposed to see me like this._

He darted back into the woods again just as he heard Lily take off in the opposite direction. He dragged his thoughts together and _pushed_…

The stag-body faded and the boy-body grew in its place, and James took off running after her before he lost her again. It probably wasn't the best idea to run right away. His legs always seemed to have a mind of their own after a change, and that mind was convinced that there were four legs rather than just two. He had almost caught up with her when he slipped in a pile of snow and fell face-first into a tree.

"Bugger," he said with feeling, knowing Lily's wand was already trained on him. He rubbed his nose. It didn't seem to be broken. Neither were his glasses, thankfully.

The look on her face was priceless. "Potter? Are you stalking me?"

"Ha," he said, wincing and flexing his ankle experimentally. Also not broken. What luck. "Sort of." He stood up.

Lily took a step back, keeping her wand trained on him. "Keep your hands where I can see them. How do I know you're really James?"

"Nobody else likes you enough to follow you into the scrapes you get yourself into," he said dryly. "I can kiss you to prove it's me, if you like."

She put her wand away. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He wiped a smear of blood from his upper lip with distaste. "Running into trees, it would seem. Dumbledore sent me to keep an eye on you when the wards were breached."

"I don't need a babysitter."

_What was it that I liked about this girl?_ "Fantastic. I'll just leave you to your own devices, shall I? Only make sure you don't use too much magic, because the Death Eaters have set up field detectors and will hunt you down if you do. Have a nice day." But he made no move to leave her by herself.

She sighed heavily, and he noted for the first time how worn she looked. "Sorry. It's just- I'm worried. What happened to my mum? Did you see?"

He shook his head, biting down on the flash of pain he felt when she mentioned her mother. "I just got a Port-key drop into the forest. Dad won't let me fight properly until I've been through Auror training, so Dumbledore sent me after you."

"Right." Lily looked about her warily, and James found himself doing the same. Suddenly, the woods were far too quiet. "So what's the plan?"

She was almost whispering, and he was glad. "I've got a map. There's a road somewhere in that direction," he gestured vaguely to the north. "We're supposed to follow it to a village." He looked up at the sky, wondering how many hours of light they had left. "And I suggest we hurry."

"Of course." Lily shivered, and James noticed that she wasn't wearing a coat.

_Of course she's not wearing a coat, idiot. She ran out the back door when Death Eaters burst into the house. I'm sure warmth was the first thing on her mind._ He wondered if she would accept his cloak if he offered it, and decided that she probably wouldn't.

Hands jammed into her pockets, Lily nodded at him. "Lead the way."

They skirted across the edge of the clearing, unwilling to cross in the open in case someone was out there looking for them. On the other side, James took out the map and checked the position of the sun again. It was already three in the afternoon, and in another hour or two it was going to be dark.

"The road should be just over the next hill," he said finally, shoving the map back into the pocket of his cloak. He looked at her. Even her nose was starting to turn blue. _Bugger, bugger, bugger_. James took off his cloak and handed it to her. "Don't refuse and don't give it back to me for at least an hour."

It was cold. In fact it was downright frigid. They had really best get a move on.

They found the road without much trouble, but figuring that the Death Eaters might know about it, too, they kept to the shadows and the trees that ran along it whenever possible. They had been going along in silence for perhaps an hour and a half when James broached the subject that had been occupying his mind for the past few miles. "I need to find a tree."

Lily looked at him around his scarf and raised an eyebrow. "I wonder where you might find one of those around here."

James rolled his eyes. "No," he said patiently, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I mean I need to _find_ a _tree_, Lily. A private one."

He could see it in her eyes when comprehension dawned on her. "Oh. _That_ kind of tree." She paused, biting her lip and looking at the ground. "Me, too."

_Why does Fate hate me?_ James wondered. "Right. Um. Perhaps we ought to move a bit further away from the road, then. But not too far."

He left her standing guard a few shrubs away, facing the opposite direction, while he went to take care of his tree problem. It was weird. It wasn't weird to pee in the woods, but it was a little odd to be doing so while being pursued by Death Eaters with the object of his affections standing ten feet away. And, he realized once again, finishing as quickly as possible, it was _cold_.

Lily was waiting for him with bitten lip again. "Um. You wouldn't happen to have a tissue?"

_Why can't I be struck by lightning? _"Um." He didn't. "I have a handkerchief." _Thank you, Dad, for your words of advice on how to be a gentleman. Carry a handkerchief. Keep a corkscrew in your shaving kit and a knife in your boot. Endeavor to never find yourself in a situation like this one._

"Oh." She was still looking at the ground, as if wondering what her next question should be.

"You can keep it," he added, pulling it out of his pocket and handing it to her.

She nodded and ran off behind a thicket, and James turned dutifully around and took his wand out of his sleeve. He was fairly certain that they hadn't been followed, but getting cocky at this point would be far more detrimental than being overly cautious. He guessed they probably had another hour worth of walking to do before they reached the village and the sun had set ten minutes ago.

Lily appeared by his side, her embarrassment seemingly gone. "How much longer?"

"About an hour," he answered, taking off his cloak again and handing it to her. She gave him back his scarf. "Let's go."

The next hour of silence was not as uncomfortable as the first had been, due in part to the location of strategically placed vegetation. It was, however, getting colder. James put his hands as far into his pockets as they would go; Lily held her wand at the ready inside one of his oversized sleeves. Sheer force of will kept his teeth from chattering. He seriously considered transforming into the stag; though it was self-Transfiguration and therefore undetectable, he decided against it. He wasn't quite ready to explain that to Lily just yet.

"I think we're here," Lily announced quietly, surveying the town. It was fairly small- just a few of the cross-streets were lit and only a handful of businesses were still open. "Ottery St. Catchpole, you said?"

"Ottery St. Catchpole," James affirmed. "We're looking for the King William Inn."

"Sounds classy."

"Do you want to get inside or not?" He knew he did. Preferably before his fingers froze off. They stopped in front of the seedy-looking inn. A rotting wooden sign above the door read _Kinge William: est. 1066_; James believed it.

"Dumbledore is sending someone to meet us here in the morning?"

James nodded. "Nine sharp."

Lily sighed. "Let's go in, then. At least we can get something to eat. I'm famished."

"Good idea." James' stomach rumbled at the prospect of food. He made Lily tug her hood over her distinctive hair, just in case someone was looking for her.

The air inside was thick with smoke, but it was warm, so James pretended not to notice. After a somewhat stilted conversation with a suspicious and disapproving old woman, he collected the key to their room and stumbled gratefully towards it.

Fifteen minutes later they were seated in tatty armchairs by the fire in their room, a plate full of various bar fare between them. "How is it?" Lily asked apprehensively, eyeing James and the chicken leg in turn.

He chewed and swallowed quickly. "Greasy," he answered honestly. _Delicious_, his body told him. "Perfect."

Lily snatched the remaining leg off the plate and bit into it hungrily. "You weren't kidding." James watched in amusement as she devoured the entire thing faster than he would have thought possible.

When the plate of food was gone, James began to realize exactly how tired he was. He took the last sip of his cocoa and yawned, leaning his head back against the chair. "It's six thirty and I'm so tired I could sleep for a week. I feel like I'm five years old."

Lily answered him with an equally sleepy tone. "Can't. Got to be up for nine, remember?"

He opened an eye to look at her. She had her feet tucked up under her on the chair, and her eyes were closed. "You're not going to fall asleep in that chair, are you?"

"Could ask the same of you."

James looked over at the two beds in the room. Like the rest of the furnishings, they were worn and slightly dirty. One of them sagged dangerously in the middle. "I'm trying to decide if they're entirely sanitary," he admitted. Reluctantly, he got up and pulled back the covers on the bed nearest the door.

"What's the verdict?" Lily asked, walking over.

He prodded the bottom sheet experimentally with one finger. A spring peeked through a vicious hole in the material and proceeded to stare maliciously up at him. _I hate you_, James thought at it. "How do you feel about tetanus?"

Lily winced. "We're not on friendly terms."

_Nothing for it_. "I'll sleep on the floor," he said, pulling the blankets off of the ruined mattress. "Won't be the first time."

Her exasperated sigh surprised him. "We've shared a bed before. You don't snore and I don't kick, I don't think. Get in."

He did his best not to stare at her, almost appalled at the fact that she was willing to share a bed with him after everything that had happened in the past six weeks. _We kissed and ignored each other, I went off and dated girls with the intention of forgetting she existed, she abandoned every good thought she ever had of me, and then I told her I loved her. And _now _she wants to sleep with me_. His mind, too tired to process this information, stalled while trying to come up with a better idea. James managed a partial compromise. "You sleep under the covers," he said, dragging the eiderdown off of the other bed and, lying down, spreading it over himself. "I'll stay on top."

Lily must have deemed this acceptable, because she climbed into bed beside him and shut off the light. He could still see her silhouette, outlined by the dying fire. "Thank you for coming after me," she said after a long while. "If they'd got me again…"

James shivered, remembering a cold, wet cell and a haggard, broken girl. "It's nothing. I would have done it for anyone."

"I know." He had to strain to hear her. There was another, shorter pause. "Sirius told me about what you did for Snape."

_If he's told her about Moony, I'll kill him._ "Oh?" he said, as neutrally as possible.

"He figured out that I knew a thing or two about Remus. He thought he'd really bollixed things up with him and for some reason felt that I would have some insight into the matter, so I got the whole spiel." He could vaguely see her turning towards him in the dark. "I'm sorry I said such horrible things about you."

His smile was a little strained, a little painful. "It's alright. I wasn't exactly nice to you, either." But he couldn't quite bring himself to apologize for everything he'd said.

"No." The silence stretched out a bit, almost to oblivion. Then, quietly, "I'm sorry. I heard about your mum."

James closed his eyes. Maureen Potter's face appeared behind his eyelids, bearing the expression she always wore when playing carols at Christmastime. He couldn't think of anything to say, and he didn't want to.

"You must think it's silly for me to be upset when I don't even know anything yet-"

He only barely detected the slight hiccup, but it was enough to alert him that she was crying. He reached out a hand and laid it on her shoulder; Lily buried her face in her pillow. "I don't think it's silly." The rawness of his own voice surprised him; he swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. "She's your mum. You just lost your father. Death Eaters are trying to kidnap you again. You've been impossibly strong for the past four and a half months."

A sniff, a short, stifled sob- "I don't want her to be dead."

"Of course you don't," he said painfully, rubbing circles on her back. "Never mind. Go to sleep."

It wasn't long before he joined her.

Lily awoke some time later- a couple of hours, judging by how far down the fire had died- to a rhythmic shaking behind her. At first she almost expected James to be weeping- after all, he had just lost his mother- but when she turned around, she found that he was fast asleep.

And freezing cold, she discovered as she touched his cheek to wake him up. _He's shivering_. "James, wake up!"

He mumbled and pulled the eiderdown tighter around him.

"James!" When he didn't stir, she reached her arm under his blanket and gave him a sharp pinch.

He awoke with a yelp. "What was that for?" His teeth were chattering.

"You're going to catch pneumonia. Besides, you woke me up. Get under here."

James was apparently either too tired or too cold to argue with her, because he discarded the eiderdown and crawled in with Lily. His leg brushed against hers and she recoiled sharply. It was wet and freezing cold- no wonder James had been shivering. "James! Take your trousers off!"

He regarded her blearily, a confused look on his face. She blushed. "What?"

"Your trousers," she repeated, moving as far to the side of the bed as she could. "They are cold and wet. And this bed is a trouser-free zone. Off with them, Mr. Potter."

"Are you wearing trousers?" he asked grouchily, hands busy beneath the blankets.

"I suspect you'll find out for yourself in a minute," answered Lily with a dry smile, almost certain she would regret this in the morning but not much caring. "Let's have them."

James tossed his trousers in the general direction of the hearth. They landed over the arm of one of the chairs. "Happy?" he asked, still shivering.

Lily sighed. This was probably not the time to be modest. "Come here." When he didn't move, she reached over and put her arm around his waist. "Do you want to get warm or not?"

Reluctantly, he leaned into her embrace. She did her best to keep from drawing back when he touched her- his skin was like ice. Instead, she pressed closer, warming his back with her hands before turning him around so that he had his back to her. It was awkward, wrapping her arm around him- she felt almost disproportionately small- but it was oddly not as uncomfortable as she had anticipated. She pushed her hair out of her face and leaned her forehead against his shoulder, snuggling up to him.

In such close quarters, it was impossible to miss his jump. "No," she said with a somewhat smug tone in answer to his previous question. "I am not wearing any trousers."

"Tease." His shaking was less now, and she could feel him relaxing.

"It's not teasing. I'm really not wearing any. I'm just not flaunting my flawless figure for you to gawk at. Anyway, your glasses would fog up if you put them on, so you wouldn't be missing much."

"I hate it when you're right."

"Get used to it."

"I've tried. Every time I do we end up fighting. It's better to be surprised."

Lily poked him with her toe. "I hate it when you're right."

"Get used to it." Then, "Is that your foot? Are you entirely sure it isn't a very small glacier?"

"Poor circulation," Lily said. "Feet like ice blocks."

James harrumphed. "This bed is a glacier-free zone."

She stuck her tongue out at him even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Goodnight, James."

"Goodnight, Lily."

Her first coherent thought of the morning was something along the lines of _ouch_. Her arms ached. Her legs ached. One of each was asleep, which was undoubtedly due to the strange position she'd been in all night. Her nose was stuffed up.

She opened her eyes with an extreme reluctance she hadn't felt since the first time she'd crawled into bed with James. There wasn't a lot to see from this particular vantage point, although admittedly there was more to see than that time last summer. Mostly, the world seemed to be white and tan. _Focus, Lily_. With a little effort, the white-and-tan lost its blur. It appeared to be skin and an undershirt. With a little more effort, the fog in her brain rolled back enough to allow her to postulate exactly _whose_ skin and undershirt it was.

She rolled over, flexing and trying to work feeling back into her limbs, not-quite-accidentally nudging James in the process.

"Mmmph," he said into the pillow.

Lily yawned. "Good morning to you, too." Satisfied that her pins and needles were mostly gone, she flopped back down into the warm bed. "How're you feeling?"

"Like a giant bruise," came the barely intelligible answer. James pulled the covers over his head. "What time is it?"

The muscles in her neck protested at being forced to turn toward the clock. "Eight thirty."

"Mmmph." The blankets came away from James' face for a moment. "Where are my trousers?" This was followed very shortly by, "In fact, where are _your_ trousers?"

_Oh God, I'm so glad he's not wearing his glasses. _Lily's face burned, but she kept her voice level. "They were soaking, so I made you take them off. They're over by the fireplace."

"Taking advantage of me while I was vulnerable, eh?" he grinned.

"So glad you're not offended," she said sweetly. "Not that I'm surprised."

Equally unsurprising was the laugh that escaped his lips when he threw off the blankets and strutted- Lily was sure there was no other word for what he was doing- over to the fireplace to retrieve his clothes. Regardless of whatever she'd believed about him in the past, she had to admit that James Potter had a fantastic backside.

"I'm supposed to meet the Order operative in a little less than half an hour, but I don't think whoever it is will recognize me," James said. "So I'm going to clean up for a bit. Don't leave the room, alright? They could still be looking for you."

"Mmm?" answered Lily absently, having no idea what he'd just said. Something about staying in the room. Possibly he was being overprotective and chauvinistic, but she was distracted. "Sure."

James disappeared into the bathroom; Lily's mental faculties cleared enough for her to realize that she'd just been staring at his bum. She was just about ready to be horrified by the trouser confiscation incident when she heard a yelp from the direction of the bathroom.

She jumped out of bed, snatched her wand from her bedside table, and had made it to the bathroom door when James appeared in the doorway, holding her brassiere at arm's length. When he saw her, his eyes widened and then shut again almost as quickly. "For Merlin's sake, Lily. A bloke has only so much restraint."

Lily looked down at herself and flushed scarlet. She was wearing nothing but her knickers and the oversized sweatshirt she'd had on the day before.She let out a yelp of her own and dove back into bed. "Sorry!"

She dwelt on her embarrassment until James went downstairs, and then the irony of the situation made her laugh so hard her sides hurt.

James spotted his quarry long before his quarry spotted him, a fact which had much to do with said man's involvement in his breakfast. Dumbledore had told him to look for someone with dark blue robes and a glass of orange juice, not pumpkin, at breakfast, and this man was the only one who fit the description.

From his observation point up the stairwell a ways, James took the time to note the exits and any potentially dangerous patrons. The only other breakfasters were an old woman with a whole peacock mounted on her hat and what he could only assume was her son, and they were having an animated conversation about the natural habitat of the Crumple-horned Snorkack, Statute of Secrecy be damned.

Gathering his confidence, he descended the last of the steps and sat himself across from his contact. "Morning, big brother."

The red-haired man looked up with a grin, reached over and messed James' hair; not, James reflected ruefully, that it needed it. "There you are! Was beginning to think you'd forgot about me." Despite the ease with which he carried off the lines, James could tell he was surprised to see him.

"I never miss breakfast," he answered, grabbing the menu from beside him on the table. "What's good this morning, Gideon?"

"Everything," he answered, "although it can't hold a candle to mum's breakfast. She's brilliant in the kitchen."

James' good mood evaporated. For a few moments this morning his mother's spectre hadn't haunted him; for a few hours last night he had been able to escape the painful memories. But this morning…

Gideon Prewett laid his fork down noisily. "Shit. Sorry, Jim, that was tactless of me."

James managed to shrug. "Don't worry about it." He ordered his breakfast and they ate in silence for awhile.

When the other patrons paid their tab and left, Gideon asked, "So what's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?"

"The usual," he answered around a mouthful of breakfast sausage. "You know, foiling evil, running from the bad guys, rescuing the damsel in distress." He swallowed and put down his fork, intending to save the rest of the meal.

Gideon shook his head. "You always did have a way with women. What do you think, kid? Ready to go?"

James grabbed his plate and deposited the rest of his Muggle money on the table. "Yeah. Come on, I've got to get something first."

"After you."

James led the way up the stairs to the room and knocked twice on the door. "You'd better be more clothed than when I saw you last, because I'm coming in!"

There was a sharp laugh from the other side of the door, so he figured it was probably safe. He walked in.

"Are we leaving yet?" came a voice from the vicinity of the fireplace. Lily had both hands up behind her head tying her hair back.

"Soon," he answered. "Glad to see you've found your trousers. Where's your wand?"

Lily patted her back pocket in answer. "Who's the escort?"

"Gideon Prewett at your service, Milady."

James didn't even bother to roll his eyes. "Gideon Prewett, Lily Evans."

Gideon's eyes flickered between them. "Latest damsel in distress?" he asked with a wink.

"No, just the distress, I'm afraid."

Lily favoured him with a wry smile. "In order to minimize your distress, we should get going." Then her face turned serious. "Have you heard anything about my mum?" she asked Gideon.

"Shortish, blonde hair, dimples?" At Lily's nod, he continued, "She's fine- was out getting groceries when the Death Eaters attacked. The house is a bit of a loss, though."

Sighing, Lily nodded again. "It was already smouldering when we left." James couldn't tell if she was relieved or resigned, or both at the same time.

He pulled his cloak from the coat tree and took hold of the Port Key Gideon had provided. James wondered, before the pulling started, what sort of chaotic reception they'd have this time.

James couldn't help but feel that, although the Potters' house had one more occupant than was strictly usual at Christmastime, it was going to be a quiet Christmas. Lily and her mother had taken spare bedrooms down the hall from his, but so far they had the tendency to keep to themselves, one James and his father shared. Both families were hurting, and grief was an emotion that was particularly private.

It was Christmas Eve. Under the tree was a fairly small pile of presents; it had been considerably larger, but James and his father could not bear to look at the gifts that had been for or from his mother, so they had been quietly hidden away until such a time as it didn't hurt so much to see them.

James didn't suppose that would be anytime soon. Distractedly, he moved his fingers up the neck of the guitar, trying to make his fingers relearn what his conscious had forgotten. A broken scale sounded in the air, ill-tuned, and he took a moment to adjust the tuning pegs before continuing.

_One, four, five_, he counted, playing chords now instead of scales. Then, slowly, bits of the song came back to him.

James didn't sing, and for a very good reason, but he plucked enough strings between chords to make the song recognizable. It was one he'd learned last Christmas, when Sirius had first shown up at his doorstep. Sirius, of course, had had to learn for himself…

"I didn't know you played."

The quiet voice startled him enough that he nearly dropped the old guitar. "My mum taught us," he said quietly between verses. "Sirius is better at it than I am."

Lily sat on the floor in front of him, which was probably the first time in a long time (their King William adventure excluded) that she had consciously elected to stay in a room alone with him. She fidgeted with the carpet for a minute while James switched tunes, and then blurted out, "Don't you know anything a little more cheerful?"

He tore his eyes away from the frets, realizing he had been projecting his grief through the guitar. "Play something in a major key? Never." But at the same time, he decided he'd had quite enough of dirges. His fingers fumbled with the notes for a few moments, searching.

"That sounds familiar," Lily said, frowning. "Almost like-"

James fumbled through the opening bars of _Jingle Bell Rock_, and she laughed. "You'll have to sing," he said apologetically, grinning. "Can't carry a tune in a bucket, myself."

"I suppose that's fair," she conceded. "But I can't exactly claim to be a fantastic singer myself."

She wasn't, but she was considerably better than James, and good enough to be going on with. They ran into difficulties when they forgot the verses, but otherwise the sing-along was a passable way to lighten the atmosphere.

Halfway through James' somewhat strained rendition of _Holly Jolly Christmas_, he looked up to find his father and Mrs. Evans watching them in amusement. Lily, following his gaze, quit stumbling over the words and was silent entirely, which, mercifully, meant that James could stop making up the chords as he went along.

Mr. Potter was watching them thoughtfully. James wondered for a moment if he were thinking of his wife, as it was her tradition James had adopted for the occasion, but he was put off his train of thought when Mrs. Evans asked, "Do you know _Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer_?"

Much later, when everyone but James was in bed, he stood uncertainly outside Lily's door. She and her mother were leaving early in the morning to go to her sister's, where they would stay until the house insurance came through and they could look for a flat. He wouldn't see her for the rest of the holidays- which ought to have been alright, since he hadn't expected to see her at all. But reason was elusive, and he felt vaguely ill at the prospect of her leaving again. It was now or never, really.

He knew that Lily wouldn't have got him anything for Christmas. She was still probably a little bit angry at him for everything that had happened in November, and he couldn't really blame her for that. Still, when he'd been out Christmas shopping for the rest of his friends, something had caught his eye and he'd been unable to stop himself from buying it.

Now he just needed to gather enough courage to give it to her.

Sighing, James gave up and propped _A Beginner's Guide to Healing_ against her door.

_1 January, 1978_

_Dear Lily, _

_I'm sure you've been told before, but it's absolutely insufferable that you are right **all of the time**. That's my shtick, and I want it back. Without it, my life is terribly unpredictable._

_Thank you. As you can imagine, being unpredictable on occasion has made it onto my list of New Year's resolutions. Wonder if being occasionally mundane made it on to Sirius'? _

_Have you seen or heard from James? We're worried about him. His last letter implied that he'd seen you; how is he doing?_

_How are _you _doing? You can tell me to bugger off, if you want to. But at the very least, I owe you a listening ear. You know?_

_I'd wish you a happy New Year, but as this seems rather contrary to the general tone of the last half of my letter, I shall perhaps settle for a year better than last one._

_Cheers,_

_Remus_

_1 January, 1978_

_Lily,_

_You were right. Thanks._

_-Sirius_

_P. S. If you see James again, make sure he's all right, would you? He doesn't talk to us anymore._

_3 January, 1978_

_Dear Remus,_

_I've been wrong before. Don't ask me to elaborate, okay?_

_James will be fine. He's not _well,_ obviously, but he just needs… I don't know. They say time heals all wounds, but I don't think the loss of a family member is something that _heals_, exactly. It just hurts less with time. _

_I will be fine. I am also not well, but I am doing better than James is. I suspect I know part of the reason for that, but… Oh, I can't explain. It's another matter of time, I think._

_Tell Sirius I said hello- I haven't the energy for another letter right now._

_Regards,_

_Lily_

"You are insane."

James turned away from the window, which was steaming up with his breath anyway, looked at Remus and shrugged. "We need practice. Or at least, I need practice. I've been a bit preoccupied lately. It's time to fix that."

Remus shook his head, causing heart-shaped confetti to tumble down around him. Valentine's Day in the Gryffindor common room had been a bit of a chaotic mess. Outside, the rain was coming down hard enough to melt what was left of the snow. "Are you doing penitence for something?"

Against his better judgment, James allowed his gaze to follow Remus' to a corner of the common room; Lily was curled up in an armchair, half-listening to Renata Chryse and the Philips twins gossip about the dates they had scheduled for later in the day. "No," he answered, only half-aware. "No, I haven't done anything I'm sorry for." He pulled up the hood on his cloak, picked up his broom and followed in the wake of the other Quidditch players.

Being on his broom again was a welcome distraction from everything else that had been going on in his life, which was much better than the opposite, being distracted by real life when he was supposed to be winning a Quidditch match. At least, he remained undistracted until he decided that the exhilaration of flying was somewhat like that first kiss he had shared with Lily so long ago, and after that he decided he'd best call off the rest of the practice before he started philosophizing.

He was walking moodily back to the castle beside Peter, who was his assistant captain by virtue of his head for details, and contemplating exactly what it would take to cheer him up when he spied some straggling brambles peeking through the remaining snow.

"What's the spell for the flowers again?" he murmured aloud to himself.

"You mean _orchiddeous?_" Peter asked, producing a good-sized bouquet. "Are you courting Lily again? Haven't you learned your lesson?"

James took the flowers from Peter with a slight frown. "Believe me, if I could give up, I would." But one more last-ditch effort wouldn't hurt, surely?

He was just contemplating Transfiguring the orchids into a dozen red roses when he was tackled from behind. The flowers, forgotten, went flying while James rolled with his unseen assailant, determined to come out on top. An elbow connected with his stomach, but he retaliated by sending his shoulder into a ribcage. There was a moment of struggling when he and his opponent were a tangle of awkward limbs…

And then James dug his knees into Sirius' armpits, breathing heavily. "Twit."

Sirius made a face at him. "Nancy."

"Poof," James said, giving him a hand up. He had crushed orchids in his hair, as well as what seemed to be very dirty pink confetti. He turned the part of his brain that thought about such things, and other people with pink confetti in their hair, off. "So much for the flowers, I think."

"You're giving up that easily?" Sirius asked in surprise.

James sighed and brushed a few crushed petals from his chest. "Everyone else has."

The rain didn't let up until April, a fact that made everyone more than only restless. The grounds were so drowned in mud that when Sirius' well-aimed Bludger had knocked an unfortunate Hufflepuff from his broom at a Quidditch match in mid-March, he'd been completely unharmed for landing in a foot of it.

James found that the best part of his birthday was no longer being subject to the whims of the weather, and, as it fell on the first, which was a Saturday, opted to spend his first three waking hours out of doors. Sirius, Remus and Peter coerced him into a game of football, which James gathered from Remus was a Muggle game played by very violent people. As Remus and Peter were the only two who had played before, they were put on opposing teams to even the odds. Having Sirius and James play on opposing teams added yet another level to the competition, and by the time James, doubled over, bowed out of the game and flopped face-down onto the muddy grass, Peter and Sirius were up four goals. James and Remus were winning in terms of fouls, but that just meant that they were bruised.

"You say the Muggles play this for _how long_?"

"Longer than I can," admitted Peter, sprawling beside him.

"They must have legs like concrete," James said mournfully. "I wish I were made of concrete. It would hurt less."

The four of them laid there in the mud for a few quiet moments, panting, until the _squelch-slurp_ of another set of footsteps made James lift his head; there was too much mud on his glasses for him to be able to see who was approaching.

"Careful by the tree," he warned.

Too late. A half-shriek, followed by another, louder _squelch-slurp_, alerted the rest of the boys that they had company.

Sirius snickered. "This is a new look for you."

James wiped some of the mud from his lenses. Lily looked like she was attempting a glower, but she was failing miserably- at least from what James could tell. There was mud streaked from her head to her toes: through her hair, on her school uniform and on her face. Presently she gave a self-deprecating grin and pulled out her wand. "_Scourgify_," she said, pointing at James' glasses.

"Thanks." She didn't bother cleaning herself off, he noticed. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not; he was staring at the mud that clung to her like Christmas had come again.

"James, I'm sure Lily's not hiding your birthday present in her blouse."

Remus' words- and the snickers of Sirus and Peter- brought him out of his reverie. Flushing, he scooped up a handful of mud and flung it in Remus' general direction. It spattered against Sirius' face instead, prompting swift retaliation in the form of a flying tackle that, unfortunately, included more weight than James could force off of him.

"Ouch," he said through a mouth half-full of mud. He spat and looked up at Lily. "Are you sure you don't want to get in on this? Once in a lifetime opportunity, and all that."

She quirked an eyebrow at them. "I think I'll pass, if it's all the same to you. I'm quite filthy enough as it is."

"If you say so." James struggled to push some weight off of him; at the top of the pile, Peter yelped and slid to the ground. Feeling more like himself than he had in ages, he asked, "Just out of curiosity, _are_ you hiding my birthday present in your blouse?"

Surprisingly, Lily's response was less than mere indignation: she laughed. "What makes you think I got you anything? Maybe I came out here to scrimmage with you."

"In knee-highs and a skirt?"

She poked her tongue out at him. "It wouldn't be the first time. But as it turns out, you are right, I did come out here to wish you a happy birthday."

James grinned. "I win." Another boy-weight rolled off of him.

Lily continued, "But as you did not see fit to inform me that it was your birthday, I'm afraid you'll have to wait for your present." She picked herself up off of the ground and shook as much mud from her hands and arms as she could. "As for right now, I think I may be in need of a good cleaning. See you at the meeting later, James." And she picked herself up and walked back to the castle with more dignity and poise than anyone who looked like they'd been dragged through a swamp had a right to.

"Did she just flirt with me?" James asked, a little dazed, when she finally disappeared into the castle.

"Right, because that's a previously impossible event," Sirius snorted, finally releasing his death-grip on James' ribs.

"Well, I mean, there was the loathing stage, no flirting there, and then she decided I was God, not a whole lot of goodness there either, what with the guilt of an opportunist, and then we reverted back to stage one, again, not so good. The friend stage was going so well and now she's _flirting_ with me." James let out all his breath in a rush. "I'm _never_ going to understand girls!"

"I don't think there's much hope for you on the other side of the line, either," Sirius commented. Remus snickered.

Lily waited until she was out of the boys' line of sight to start blushing. There had certainly been a time during her previous infatuation with James that she had been fairly forward with him, but then, that had come between his periods of showing any interest in her whatsoever. It was an entirely new thing, having him flirt back.****

**_Are_**_ you hiding my birthday present in your blouse?_ She felt a little bit guilty for neglecting to get him anything, which stemmed, in reality, from the guilt of not knowing when his birthday actually was.

_Still,_ she thought to herself, _I suppose there's no sense knowing everything about someone before you're together. There'd be no mystery to it._

She stopped before the doors to the castle to perform another Cleaning Charm, on herself this time. She still felt vaguely grimy, but it would at least keep her from setting the bad example of tramping mud through the hallways.

Would she follow through with her flirtatious promise to get him a gift later? And if she did, what could James Potter possibly need? Besides a thorough snogging, which she was not quite ready to give him?

_I hate springtime,_ James decided somewhat forlornly, trailing mindlessly behind Peter and Marianne Philips. Peter, against most of the laws of nature, was on a Date. Remus and Sirius, in accordance with a few laws of nature of their own, were also on a Date, although they tended to be a bit more discreet about it. Anyway, what it really meant was that James was wandering through Hogsmeade essentially by himself for the first time ever. It was lonely and liberating at the same time.

Zonko's wasn't any fun without Sirius to fill his mind with horrible ideas. The Three Broomsticks lost a good deal of charm when there was no Remus to shout good-natured insults at across the table. Even walking down the streets wasn't the same without Peter's constant stream-of-consciousness background narrative.

Everywhere he looked, disgusting couples were holding hands and enjoying the beautiful weather and being generally intolerable. James was very sorely tempted to hex every single one of them. Even the third years looked to be having more fun than him, scattered about in groups of three or four, just enjoying each other's company.

When Peter's hand came to rest on Marianne's backside, James decided he'd had enough of looking at people and turned left into the nearest shop he could find.

It smelled of old books and quiet evenings in and what he imagined memories must smell like, if they had a smell. It was armchairs and fireplaces and something indefinably comfortable. When his eyes adjusted to the low lamplight, he realized it was some sort of pawn shop. After a minute of more careful observation, he realized it was the same pawn shop he'd run into Lily in back when he'd gone on that date with Alice.

_I am doomed,_ he thought glumly. _Lily and I will dance pathetically around each other forever_ _and I will never get so much as a kiss._ _I will pine away until time loses all meaning and be a hermit and live in a cave and eat lichen to survive._

"I think I'm in hell," James commented aloud, just in case anyone was listening.

A voice beside him nearly caused him to careen into an unsteady-looking book case. "Well, at least you're in good company." Lily flashed him a small smile, holding out a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. "You're a tough man to track down, Mr. Potter. Happy belated birthday."

He blinked twice, took the package and focussed on her face again. "Are you being cute?" he asked suspiciously.

Her grin widened. "I am making every effort. How's it working?"

James held the present to his ear and shook it gently. "You needn't try so hard. What is this, anyway? Can I open it?"

"Pandora's box," Lily replied with a mysterious grin. "Could be anything. And you should probably wait for a bit. Would you care to take a walk?"

In fact, James found that he wanted nothing more than to meander about with her. They mostly ignored everyone else, too absorbed in each other to notice what was going on around them. After a few stomach-churning moments of deliberation, James found it deceptively easy to catch Lily's fingers in his own.

She pretended that she didn't notice, although he thought he could detect a faint flush on her cheeks. A few Butterbeers, some aimless wandering and an hour of idle chat later, James found himself face to face with her, all alone in the Head Students dormitory. "So? Can I open it now?" He was nervous. What if it was something really personal? What if he hated it? What if it was perfect? He wasn't sure what would be worse.

Lily flushed slightly, turning to look at him on the sofa. She nodded. "Okay."

Hands shaking just slightly, James untied the parcel strings.

The brown paper glowed bright white for a second, then disappeared. James frowned at his empty lap. Where had-

He looked up. Lily was watching him with a peculiar look on her face. Very carefully, she eased herself closer until her face was bare centimetres from his own. "Happy birthday," she whispered with that same odd smile. And kissed him, very softly, on the lips.

They both sat quietly in the room for a minute before James said, "Really a Pandora's Box, then. Not just a figure of speech."

The peculiar, almost-possessed expression had faded from her face and she smiled somewhat sheepishly. "I didn't know what to get you. That was easy."

"I didn't know you knew how to enchant one of those." Still shell-shocked. And unsure whether he should be pleased or very, very afraid.

It wasn't his fault she'd got him a Pandora's Box, so named for the sometimes apocalyptic events that tended to ensue whenever they were given. By enchanting such an object, the giver agreed to provide the recipient with whatever he or she wanted most, so long as it was in the giver's power.

"I didn't know that was what you wanted most." A short pause. "Probably should have guessed, though."

"Am I in trouble?" James asked meekly, finally raising his eyes to her gaze.

Lily smiled, and his stomach attempted a set of complicated gymnastics. "Not yet."

_I love springtime,_ he decided, marvelling at his luck as her lips descended on his again.

"Look at this one," Lily said, pointing to a candid shot of Remus and Sirius- the former had his nose in a book, and Sirius was shooting him covetous looks from across the room. "It's very cute, but I think it ought to be censored. Protecting the innocent, and all that." She winked.

James laughed. "Give it to Remus. He'll find a spot for it." He flipped through the pile of photographs in front of him. "I think this one should have a whole page to himself. Can't you just see it?"

Lily took one look at the picture and elbowed him in the stomach. "So Remus and Sirius get censored and we get pimped, eh? Not sure that's entirely fair, myself." The photo was of the two of them on Halloween in their vampire-and-peasant costumes; James' expression was somewhere between entranced and kicked puppy as he leaned over Lily's neck, ready for the bite.

"Wonder if I could've been a bit more obvious?" he asked idly, setting the picture down in the _reject_ pile. It was a good thing there were so many others to choose from, or the yearbook might have been awfully thin.

"Well, you could've decided not to snog Sylvia Peters afterwards," she said. "That'd be a start."

She must've caught the wounded expression on his face, because she softened immediately. "James, I was joking. And even if- even if I'd noticed a bit sooner- well, I wasn't ready for it, was I?"

Under normal circumstances a blush on James' face was nearly undetectable; in this case he wondered if he was on fire from the neck up. His own words echoed through his head- _because I'm in love with you_. They had never revisited that conversation, and maybe, for now, it was better that way. "I don't think I was really ready for it, either," he admitted.

Lily offered him a half-smile. "Sorry I bullied you into it."

"Ha! You are too little to bully me, woman."

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter. I am exactly the right size to bully you." Then she leaned over and kissed him, and James was forced to rethink his position. Her mouth was soft but demanding, and he found himself responding without thinking. Soon Lily was in his lap, her arms around his neck, and James wasn't about to complain.

She pulled back after a moment, just enough so that their noses were barely touching. "James?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you ready now?"

He looked up at her, startled and a little scared. He barely nodded, raising a hand to her cheek. "Are you?"

Lily blushed, leaning her forehead against his. A faint smile danced at the corner of her lips. "I asked you first."

What a time to have butterflies in his stomach! Heart pounding, James captured one of her hands with his. "Yes. You?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Seeming to steel herself, she looked into his eyes, then down again, shyly. For a second it struck him as odd that a girl could sit in his lap and look so bashful, and then-

"I love you, James."

"I love you, too."

The End.


End file.
